Don't Let Go
by AcaciaDawn105
Summary: Fear is a potent motivator. And the fear of falling is probably the greatest of all. Whether the fear of falling from a cliff, or falling from grace. This new player has a history with falling, and the team is tangled up. The question is, will they fall with her, or keep her from falling at all. Sorry if it's sloppy, I was up until 5:30 writing this. Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1

_**Don't Let Go**_

 _ **Chapter One~Meet N' Greet**_

Terrified. That was a good word for the emotion that kept shooting within her. It went with the beat of her heart, along with the pain that radiated from her ribs. She couldn't run fast enough to get far away from the people following right behind. Quickly ducking behind a trash bin, she slid to the ground in an attempt to catch her breath. It was less than thirty seconds before she heard the footsteps rounding the corner.

"Check the boiler room, we'll go this way. C'mon."

A quiet sob excaped her throat, and she pulled one of her hands away from the wound in her side to cover her mouth. With each passing second, the footfalls came closer and closer. She nearly screamed when she suddenly heard the sound of fighting. Her brain went into overdrive, her imagination coming up with the worst situations. The woman curled in tighter into the corner as tears burned their way down her cheeks. _Please,_ she prayed. _Please, just get me out of here, someone, please. Save me._ Then she did scream. Someone grabbed her roughly by her arm and yanked her up.

"Please, don't hurt me! I don't know anything!"

" _Quiet!_ " her perpetrator hissed. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You're not?" she whimpered.

"No. Listen, Tamara, my name is Eliot. I need you to calm down, alright." Then, as if to himself, "Why did it have to be me?"

"Excuse me?"

The man known as Eliot looked at her shocked. "Sorry, not you. My team."

"Your-what...what the hell is going on?"

"Guys, we need a way out. We've got more incoming. ETA sixty seconds." Turning back to her, he realized how she was holding herself. "How bad?"

"Knife between the bottom two ribs. I don't know how bad it is right now, but I think I'll be ok as long as I don't run anymore."

"Sorry, sweetheart, but we're about to have to run some more." Grabbing her hand, he tugged her along behind him. Only a moment later they were stopped by an air vent dropping in front of them. Both looked up, and a blond braid poked out.

"Are you two just gonna stand there and stare, or are you gonna grab on?" She lowered herself enough to reach the two. The man interlinked his fingers and motioned for her to jump.

"Are you crazy?!"

"Just-" Eliot made a face at her, motioning for her to hurry.

A growl of exhasperation, she put her hands on his shoulders and a foot into his hands. With a muttered count to three, he hoisted her up into the waiting arms of his quirky accomplice. A sharp cry made it out of her mouth as she was pulled over the lip of the vent, but was silenced by the thin blonde woman, who placed a gloved hand over her face. "Shh." She moved away and threw a rope down. "Grab it, I can't reach you and you're too heavy."

"Shut up, and pull, Parker."

"Hey, you mind?" The newly named Parker handed her the end of a long black rope. Realizing what she meant, Tamara started pulling on it despite the pain. Below them, she heard shouts and her initial rescuer began pushing her towards the direction Parker was going.

"Move, we gotta get outta here before-" shots rang out, making holes in the metal. Eliot sighed and flipped his long hair out of his face, "That. Come on."

They crawled through the air ducts for a few moments, before she was hit with the feeling of cool, fresh air on her face. And then fell face-first onto the sidewalk. "Ow. Crap."

"Come on, darlin'. Up you get, we've got a ride to catch."

"More running?" she asked.

"Yeah, more running."

And they were off again. Running across the empty parking lot, she started limping badly. Her leg burned, causing her to slow. A dark van came screeching down the road, coming to a halt in front of them. The door slid open, a dark skinned man yelled at them to get in, slamming the door once they had. The motion of the van caused her to fall backwards into Eliot, which in turn caused her to scream in pain.

"What happened in there?" a voice called from the front.

"They got to her before we did. One of them took a knife to her."

"Nate, we need to get her to a hospital!" Another voice.

"No, we can't do that. We'll take her back to the house, fix her up there."

"We don't have the equipment. What if she's got internal bleeding?"

"Eliot, you know your way around a needle. See what you can do when we get there. Everyone else, get the stuff he needs to take care of her."

" _Take care of me_? Who the hell are you people?! What do you want with me?"

"Relax," the mysterious man said. "We aren't going to hurt you. We just need to get you somewhere safe. It's alright, just-"

"Can't Eliot just knock her out or something?" Parker quiped.

"I ain't hitting a lady if she ain't hit me first."

"Well, then give her something."

"None of you people are touching me with anything. I swear to God, if any of you crazies even think about it, I am going to kick the living daylights out of you!"

"Now, now, baby girl." The black man crooned. "Why don't you just calm down." Noticing that he had a syringe hidden in the palm of his hand. True to her word, she kicked out at him and hit him twice. Once in the groin and another in the chest.

"Damn, Hardison. Didn't she just say don't touch her?" Eliot's voice wobbled with laughter.

"Shut up."

As the adrenaline wore off, she started to feel more and more pain in her right leg. It started off as just a throbbing, then got more intense, until it just burned with every move and bump of the van, until she was crying out every time. It wasn't very long before everyone was staring at her and wondering.

"What is it? The stab wound?" The long haired man moved her hand to check.

"Naw, man. It's already started clotting. Something else is wrong."

"My leg! It hurts."

"Lemme see."

"Don't!" She jerked away from him. "Please don't. Just...jsut wait until I've gotten some anesthesia or something."

"Knocking her out is still an option," said Parker in a sing-song voice.

"No need, we're here." The car jerked to a stop. And the driver turned around. "Now, how do we get a blood-covered, tearful, crying girl _all_ the way up there?"

And that's the start of how Tamara was smuggled from the car, through the lobby, up the elevator, and into Nate's apartment.

"We don't have any anesthisia." Eliot informed her, turning to Nate he asked, "How the hell don't you have any anesthisia in your first aid kit? Have you not been around us long enough to know?" He turned back to the woman currently laying on the kitchen table. "Darlin' you're gonna have to settle for the old fashioned stuff. What's your poison?"

"Whiskey, if you have it."

"What, no vodka?" Hardison snarked.

"Whiskey is better for disinfectant, and it numbs me out more than vodka does when I drink it." They all just looked at her for a moment, before Eliot shrugged.

"Alright. I'll get you a bottle. Jim or Jack?"

"Jack."

"You got it." He was gone for a moment, then came back with a full bottle of Jack Daniel. Nate started to complain. He was silenced with a look. "Here."

She unscrewed the top and gulped down a good amount of drink. She winced slightly at the burn as it hit her stomach, then handed the bottle back to him. At his insistance, the other men left so she could take off her shirt and pants. Eliot turned his back from her when she was undressing and held out a blanket to cover most of her body. The two females held her at her shoulders and knees so that he could get to work. The knife wound was the most urgent, so he decided to do that one first. He poured a good amount into the hole, causing her to hiss in pain and Sophie and Parker to hold on tighter. There was no debris in the hole, luckily, so he simply stitched it up.

"Alright, now, ladies, I'm gonna need you to hold on tight. This filly's 'bout to start bucking." He poured more whiskey on her leg where the blood oozed out. It wasn't too bad at first, until he got a good look at it. "Uh, sweetheart, you're gonna want to bite down on something. Hold on..." he trailed off, looking for something to give her. He finally just gave up and pulled his belt through his loops and folded it up. "Here. Sorry, it's not all that clean, been through a rough life."

"Just give me the damn belt." He chuckled and put the leather between her teeth. The other two bore down as he started poking around in her leg-meat. In turn, she started screaming through the belt.

Nearly half an hour later, Tamara was laying limply against the table, her ragged breathing coming out in wearied sobs. Another shot of whiskey had her gripping Eliot's shirt-sleeve.

"Shh, it's alright, darlin'. It's all over now. I'm done. You're ok. I gotta wrap your leg up, 'kay? I'm gonna need you to let go for a minute." She nodded again, relaxing just enough for him to menouver her leg so he could get the bandages around it. "It's alright. Sophie's gonna go get you some clothes."

"Uh, little problem with that, dearest. She's a little...y'know...curvy for anything I or Parker have."

"Well, what else are we gonna do? She can't walk around in a blanket and underwear."

"I'm sure you've got something she can borrow for the time being."

Eliot rolled his eyes. "I've got some sweats and a tank top she can use."

"You might wanna get that girl a t-shirt." Hardison piped up from the doorway. "She too...womanly for _just_ a tank top. Believe you me, my friend, we'd all be seeing her business. Well, if I hadn't already seen all her business. Not a lot goin' on on the interwebs." The other male disappeared for a moment.

"What the..." she gulped in a breath, "hell are you...doing...going through my carbon footprint?"

"Aw, baby girl, we knew everything about you the second we got on this case. Except why these bad guys wanted you in the first place."

"Hey, Hardison, why don't we leave the questions for the morning. Poor girl's been through hell tonight. Here, sorry if they're a little big. Look, you're gonna stay here for tonight. Tomorrow, after you've rested, had something to eat, then we'll start asking questions."

"Ok." She took the offered clothing and slid the articles on under the blanket. After that, she was led to a spare bedroom and tucked in. She was out before Sophie even left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two~ Wake Up Call**_

Tamara was slow to wake up, which was no surprise considering what had happened. Since she was out of the way temporaraly, the team decided to go over their intel.

"Alright, so, what do we know about our guest? Hardison?" Nate sat down with his usual glass of whiskey.

"Tamara Malory Smith. She's a twenty-three year old psychology graduate from New York University, working for Maybary Union Company as a foreign liason and working as a pencil pusher for psychological profiling. She uses numbers to figure out which people they need to target with their products."

"The question is, why does the C.E.O. want a pencil pusher dead?"

"Well, according to the information I got from her computer, she's been doing a little extra digging on her boss. Apparently, she thinks some kind of discrepsincy in the accounts. I don't know what she thought they might be, but after a little bit of deeper investigation, it looks to me like somebody's been a very bad boy. Look at this." He clicked his remote. "All kinds of small funds from charity donations just up and disappear. Every so often, about every three weeks, a little over $6,000 go missing from these accounts and...I have managed to start running a trace on them." Again, he was typing away at his laptop. "This guy is kinda smart though. So far I've traced the transactions through at least three different banks in three different countries."

"Alright, this is what we're gonna do. Sophie and I are going to go talk to the big man upstairs. Hardison, stay on the money. Parker, while we get the C.E.O. out of his office, you get the stuff off his computer. Eliot, you stay here and make sure Sleeping Beauty doesn't go anywhere."

"What?"

"I imagine that the poor girl would feel better being around the person who saved her." Sophie raised an eyebrow and stood to get her coat. "She's in no condition to go anywhere right now...physically or mentally."

"I ain't stayin' here to babysit. Y'all need me out in the field."

"No, she's right. It'll be good for her to see a friendly face."

Hardison choked on his orange soda with a laugh. "Eliot? Friendly? What the hell kinda planet you livin' on, man?"

"Shut up, Hardison. Fine, I'll stay. I gotta check the chick's wounds anyway, make sure they didn't get infected."

"Sounds good. Come on, gang, let's go steal a C.E.O."

"Shit, man, why the hell do I gotta stay behind? Just to babysit a freakin' chick. This is messed up." Eliot paced the living room, listening in on the others, while waiting for Tamara to wake up. Finally, he just got tired of waiting and went to the door to her room. "Alright, Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up!" he knocked as he spoke. When there was no answer, he went in. "Hey, you alright in here?" Looking around, he found that she was not in bed. Neither was she anywhere visible in the room. "Hello?" He ran to the ajoining bathroom to check for her, but she was not in there either. The long-haired man stood in the middle of the room for a moment, before noticing the open window. "Hey guys, I think our new guest just bailed."

"What? Eliot, you were supposed to be watching her," Sophie chastised.

"Hey, what the hell was I supposed to do? Push her out of bed and drag her ass into the living room to keep her prisoner until y'all got back?"

"That could've worked." Parker quiped.

"Hold on, you guys. Are you sure she's gone? She's not just hiding from you?"

"I think the open window is a bit of a give-away, don't you?" From behind him, he heard a small thump. He turned to see nothing but the closet. "Maybe not."

"What? Eliot, what's going on?"

"Oh, nothing," he silently made his way to the double doors. "Just making sure I've covered all my bases." Jerking open the closet, there was a yelp of surprise, and he reached in to grab her arm.

"Get off of me!"

"Calm down. Damn, woman, I'm not gonna hurt ya. How many times I gotta say that?" Eliot could hear snickering on the comm in his ear.

"What I tell you, man? Sophie shoulda stayed."

"We needed her. Eliot doesn't come in until later. Get her to sit calm down, before she hurts herself anymore."

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Then to the struggling woman he said, "Hey! Stop!" Realizing she wasn't going anywhere, she stilled, staring at him like a frightened deer. "Jesus Christ, took you long enough. Come on," he pulled her into the living room. "Why'd you hide from me?"

"I don't know you. I don't know what you want, or why you're keeping me here. For all I know, you've been hired to find out what I know, and then kill me."

Eliot rubbed his face and flipped his hair out of his face. "Nobody's killing anybody. Jeez, just calm down, okay?"

"If you're not going to hurt me, then why am I here?"

"Because your boss is after you, and the only way for us to keep you safe is to keep an eye on you. Now, Randall knows where you live, he knows your family members, your friends, and any place you might go on a regular basis. So, he knows where you would go to hide out. What he doesn't know, is me and my team. Even if he found this place, we've all got at least two other places to hide, meaning we could take you just about anywhere in the world until it was safe for you to resurface." Sitting on the coffee table in front of her, he sighed. "We know a lot of things, but we need even more to bring this guy down. You are the key to that right now. And what we need from you, is for you to trust us. Okay?" She nodded slowly. "Good. Now, listen to me. We were brought in to expose this guy for embezzling money. It just so happens that you were investigating him as well. When he found out about it, Randall tried to get you out of the picture and wipe your computer. Luckily for you, we knew ahead of time and were able to keep you from harm...well, mostly. Sorry about that."

"I just...I don't remember much from last night. It's all a blur. Most of what I do remember is pain."

"That's normal for someone in your situation. I've met a lot of people who passed out and literally forgot everything. It's your brain trying to protect itself from memories that might damage it."

"I know this. I'm a psychologist, remember. My brain is selectivly stowing things away until things are not as stressful."

"Yeah. Now, our hacker couldn't find much on our mark, or on your computer."

"Of course not. Do you think I'm stupid. I knew not to put anything on my work computer. All my evidence is on my laptop at home, and hard copies of everything. Double hard copies, hidden in places only I could find."

"Damn, this girl's smart. For a lowlevel bookie anyway."

"Hardison, shut your trap."

"Excuse me?" Tamara asked, appaled.

"Not you. Hardison, the hacker." There was a quizical look on her face. Eliot pulled his comm out of his ear and spoke into it. "Say hi, guys." He held it out to her, and she put it in.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Tamara."

"Hey, baby girl.

"Hi there. Wow, you sure slept a long time. Or were you just pretending so that you could get away? Cuz if so, you picked a bad time to try to run. Especially with the injuries you have, and-"

"Parker, cool it. Tamara, we will all introduce ourselves when we get back. But for now, we have a con to run. So, if you would kindly give the earpiece back to our associate, I would be very grateful."

"Uh...sure." Wide eyed, she handed it back. "I guess they need to talk to you."

With a short nod, he took it back. "What's up, boss?"

"Parker made a good point. She wouldn't have gotten far with her injuries. Now, we have to go back to work. I want you to watch her more closely. And check the wounds, make sure they haven't festered, or whatever. Gotta go." The last part was hushed and hurried.

"Yeah, yeah." Turning back to the woman before him, he took in her harried appearence. "I guess you can get a shower or somethin'."

"Um, I don't have any extra clothes. And I've already slept in these, dirty. All my stuff is back at home. If what you said is true, I can't go home, because Mr. Randall will have sent men to make sure I don't come back."

"True. Listen, I can get you some clothes...but you're gonna have wait until Sophie gets back, because I have no idea how to shop for women."

"Did someone say shopping?" Sophie's excited voice came over the comm.

"I don't need you guys to pay for my clothes. I have perfectly good clothes at home."

"Yeah, well you can't exactly get home, can you? And none of us can get into your house without being spotted by Randall's men. So, right now I can get you another set of sweats, find you a tank top and sweater, and you can just deal with it, until Sophie gets your information."

"What information?"

"Soph?"

"Oh, there's a whole list of things I'd need. I'll have to text you and have her write them down for me."

"Alright. Whenever you get a chance." He waited for a moment, before his phone dinged at him. Checking it, he saw a message from the grifter. He opened it and nearly choked on the beer he had been taking a sip of. It started off rather normal with things like _Shirt/pant size, dress size, socks, shoes_. But then it got interesting. _Underwear, bra, waist size, hips, bust_ , on and on. With a small chuckle, he handed his phone to her. "Sophie wants you to write down your information so she can get you some stuff."

"What does she need all of this for. If I'm just going to be sitting around here, wouldn't I just need jeans and t-shirts?"

Sophie's voice whispered in his ear. "Oh, no, dear. You never know when we're going to need you for a part of the con. Besides, if I'm going to be giving you a makeover, might as well make it a god one. Get you up to speed on all the latest fashion."

"I don't think she cares about fashion, mama. Have you seen this girl's FaceBook photos? I'm just gonna say, I know Goodwill when I see it, okay. Lady ain't gonna be winning any fashion shows anytime soon."

"I think Sophie's right on this one. Randall's having a gala later in the week. We may need her to help us at some point."

"Guys, what if she doesn't want to help?"

"Excuse me?" She waved her hand in front of Eliot's face. "I'm right here. You could just ask me for whatever it is."

"I'll fill you in later. Here, take this and write down whatever Sophie needs." He handed her a pen and notepad and waved her away. With a huff, she went and sat at the kitchen table, away from him so they could talk. "Alright, how long until you're out of there? Because I don't think she likes me too well."

"We should be done in an hour or so. We'll be back then."

"Ok, just hurry. I don't know how much longer she'll go without trying to make another getaway attempt." After a few moments, Eliot got up and sauntered over to the kitchen. "How long's it been since you ate last?"

"Breakfast yestarday, I think. Why?"

"I'm hungry, just thought I'd ask. You allergic to anything?"

"Not to my knowledge. Unless you guys have some kind of rare fish in the fridge that has some random chemical that could kill me."

"Y'know, we don't eat much pufferfish around here." He rolled his eyes and started getting stuff out. "And just so you know, if we wanted you dead, you would already be dead."

"I know. So, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why are you people helping me?"

"It's what we do."

"Ok, then how are you going to get into my house to get the evidence against Mr. Randall?"

"We'll get to that later. Whatever's on your computer, Hardison can get in and out in ten minutes tops. If you tell Parker where your hard copies are, she can do it in less than five."

"Gotcha. So, is this what you do on a normal day-to-day basis? Help people just because?"

"We take cases where we can also take down the bastards that get rich ripping people off. Your boss is one of those fat cats living on top of the world by other people's money. This is our job. We do it because it's right."

"But it's illegal..."

"So? All of us were the worst of the wrong side of the law. Except Nate. He used to be an insurance fraud inspector."

"How did you all manage to get to this?"

Eliot paused, a smile on his face as he started scrambling some eggs. "You could say it kinda fell into our laps. We were pulled together by a guy who recruited us to steal something, then tried to kill us."

"Cool I guess. So, everyone has a backstory?"

"You sure have a lot of questions."

"I'm naturally curious. That's what got me into trouble, remember?"

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought it back. Well?"

"I don't think I'm the right person to tell you other people's secrets."

"Right, sorry."

"It's ok. Syrup?"

"What?"

"Do you want syrup on your pancakes?"

"Um, sure. Thanks."

When Eliot turned to put her plate in front of her, he noticed a slight grimance on her face. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Just...it stings a bit."

"I'll check it after you get done eating. With those kind of injuries, best thing you can do is keep your strength up so your body has the energy to heal. Here, I'll get you some orange juice." Grabbing the carton and a glass, he poured the drink and then set it down with her food.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Bacon's almost done, so eat up."

"What did I do to deserve a five star treatment?" she muttered to herself.

"Well, y'know, getting shot and stabbed kind of calls for a little pampering, wouldn't you say."

"I guess." She started in on her food, realizing she was actually more hungry than she orignially thought. He had to remind her to slow down so she didn't make herself sick. So, nearly a half an hour later, he put her now clear plate in the sink and then guided her back to the couch, bringing the first aid kit with them. They sat down and he had her lay on her side with her arm abover her head. Eliot unwrapped her ribs and cleaned the small stitches with an alcohol wipe. "Shit, that stings."

"Big baby."

"Excuse me? I think I'm entitled to be a baby after the last few days I've had, thank you very much."

He snorted and shook his head at her. "Cut looks good. Stitches are holding. You're gonna need to make sure you don't do any strenuous activities for the next few days, and they should fall out by themselves." He slathered antibiotic ointment over the threads and rewrapped the bandages. "Ok, now for the akward part. I need you to take off your pants." At the incredelious look she gave him he just laughed. "I've gotta check where the bullet went in. Besides, that shirt's big enough on you, you won't even need a blanket." She stood up and scowled at him as she untied the strings on the sweatpants and dropped them to her ankles. Stepping out of them, she layed back down, pulling the shirt over her thighs the whole time. He took off the bandage on her leg and inspected the wound carefully. "It looks like the bullet didn't do all that much damage, despite how much of a bitch it was to get out. Same thing goes for this one as the one on your side." Rewrapping, he mentioned, "You may not want to do too much exercise for a while, and no running for two weeks at least."

"Me? You're the one who made me run last night? And from the way you were digging in my legmeat, I'd say you did more damage than the damn bullet!" A whistle came from the doorway. They spun around to see the rest of the team, all with amused looks, standing there.

"Damn, Eliot. What the hell'd you do to irritate such a pretty lady as this?" Hardison asked, his eyes scanning apreciatively over her exposed legs.

"Keep it up, and I'll kick you again." Tamara threatened.

Hardison's hands went up in a mock surrender. "My bad, baby girl. Just joking around."

Eliot handed her the sweatpants and chuckled, "I don't think you'll be doing much kicking for a while."

Sophie moved to cover Tamara as she attempted to get her bad leg back into the fabric. "So, what's this I heard about shopping?" she asked gleefully.

"Notepad's over there. Really, you don't have to do this. I can pay for my own clothes."

"Oh, darling, it's no trouble really. Technically, everyone in this room is a millionare, not that you could tell just by looking at us."

"Not to mention, that you won't be buying anything until we take Randall down," Parker appeared, startling her. "Your boss managed to freeze all your assets. So, nothing goes in or out of your bank account."

"You're kidding me?! He can't do that! Not without legal reason to do so!"

"Actually, with the cover story he gave the cops, he can do anything he wants."

"Cover story? What cover story?"

"Oh, he told them you were trying to steal corperate secrets to sell to another company, and had somehow managed to get ahold of some top secret information."

"That's ridiculous."

"Yeah, we managed to copy your hard drive on your work computer before we left. He would have wiped it so the cops wouldn't get any incriminating information. But, I got there first, so you're in the clear."

"Thanks...I think."

"Alright, I'll be back in a few hours, and then we can get you into something a little more civilized than Eliot's borrowed pjs."

"Please, don't spend too much money, or I may never be able to pay you back."

"Who said anything about paying me back? Don't worry about it, darling."

"Then don't buy anything fancy. This guy said I'm not going to be doing much of anything in the next week or so."

"Uh, Eliot, maybe you should go with her, just in case." Nate was pouring himself a drink as he spoke. "You know, help her find comfortable clothes, carry the bags, make sure she doesn't go crazy with this."

"Anything to get me out of this place, but I ain't carrying nobody's bags. I ain't a damn packmule."

"Of course not, dear. You're just built like one."

"Hey, now, I don't much care for what you're insinuating." He grabbed his jacket and followed Sophie out the door.

Tamara just sat on the couch for a while, tuning out the other three team members. Not too long later, the dark skinned hacker plunked down on the sofa next to her.

"So...do you like video games?"

"I've never been particularly good at consol games. Unless it's, you know, Mortal Combat style one-on-one."

"I got Injustice."

"That works." Which led to the next three hours semmingly flying by as Hardison, Parker, and Tamara taking turns button mashing. And after those three hours, they stopped for grilled cheese and tomato soup, just like Hardison's nana used to make, with extra butter. It was in the middle of lunch that Sophie and Eliot returned, the latter carrying a multitude of colorful bags.

"Goddamn, woman. That is the last time I ever go in _any_ kind of store with you. You are insane." He slammed down the bags. "How can anyone spend half an hour deciding between two identical shirts, only to buy both of them? How-how can you even move between that many stores in that short amount time."

"Boutiques, Eliot. They're called boutiques."

"I don't care what they're called, don't _ever_ ask me to go anywhere with you again." He stomped over towards the couch, only to stop when he saw the three already there staring at him. "What the hell you lookin' at?" he was answered with shrugs and murmmurs. Flopping down in between Hardison and Tamara. He swipped the remote and changed the channel to watch the football game.

"Aw, come on, man. We was playing a game."

"Does it look like I care?" He gave his friend a hard look.

"No, not really."

Sophie took the newcomers hand and drew here away to the bedroom to try on some things on. It wasn't long before they began to hear cries of astonishment and protest sounding from the beyond the door. Everyone was turned around staring, all mildly amused.

"There is no way I can wear something like this! I can not pull this kind of thing off. It's just too much."

"Sweetheart, there is no such thing as too much."

"This is too low, and _this_ is way to short. I'm not built like you, Sophie. This stuff rides up on gals like me."

"Oh, it'll be fine, I promise. You're going to turn heads."

"I thought the point of me being here was to lay low, not stand out?"

Parker leaned over the arm of the sofa, "I like her. She thinks practical."

"Mama, all she said was that she can't wear stuff like you and Sophie can." Hardison rolled his eyes just as Parker stuck her tongue out at him.

Eliot sighed and leaned his head back on the back of the couch. "This is gonna be a long week."

 **AN~Fun stuff right? I'm having fun. Give me some lovens, people. Read and Review, each one gets a cookie!**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three~ A New Injury**_

Sophie came out of the guest bedroom, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary. She settled down at the kitchen table with Nate. When questioned about whether it was a smart idea to leave her alone, she simply said that Tammy (as she was now affectionatly called) was simply taking a nice, well-deserved bath.

"Girl better not mess those stitches up. It took me too long to make sure her skin was lined up right. If she rips 'em, I ain't fixing 'em." Eliot was still extremely grumpy.

Another twently minutes went by, and the door opened and they were greeted with the sight of a newly cleaned Tamara came into the room in better fitting clothes. Eliot's were in her hands, folded neatly. She shyly limped over and handed the to him, then went over to the book case and started browsing. Eliot stared at the cloth in his hands for a moment, then looked up at her. She had finally selected three books and sat curled up in the armchair off to the side. She seemed much calmer now. It appeared that the bath had sone her some good, and the books swallowed her up. Hours and hours went by, and she only moved once to go to the bathroom. By the time she finished all three books, it was nearly eleven in the evening, and she stretched just enough to flex those muscles, but not enough to mess with her stitches.

"You hungry?" she jumped. Eliot was still there, silently watching the T.V. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"How long have you been there?" Tammy rubbed her eyes.

"The whole time. You've been sitting there since about 2 o'clock. Haven't eaten since this morning."

"Uh, yeah, I could eat." Her stomach confirmed the answer with a sound similar to that of a giant bullfrog. She placed her hand over the offending organ.

She heard the man chuckle, "I'll take that as a hell yeah, then." Tamara got up, she could feel the strange man's eyes on her as she limped back to the bookcase to return the novels to their proper places. "You read pretty fast," he commented when she joined him in the kitchen.

"I like books. Do you ever get the feeling like you need to excape your reality, into a world where you go on adventures and people actually care about what happens to you?"

Eliot pinned her with a level look, "Not really. I get enough adventure with my job to last anyone a lifetime. Besides, what do you need to run away from in your life? Hardison said that you were pretty well liked by everyone." There was no response as she doodled on the notepad that had been left on the table. But, he was patient. He knew she would crack if he just waited. After a few moments, he heard her sigh. _Check and mate._

"I grew up using books to hide away from everything. At first, I was just a kid who liked to read. But during middle school...I started slipping into the pages more and more. Seventh grade girls are bitches. And the guys weren't much better. I must have had a neon sign following me around or something, because I was one of the most picked on kids at that school. I got into a fight in eighth grade with a girl who had some serious problems. Rumor was that she lived basically by herself and did all kinds of drugs, maybe even sold herself out to make money. I don't know. Teenagers will believe just about anything. Anyway, I was in science with this girl, and at one time, I had asked to be moved away from her because her and her friends were disruptive, and I was the good student who just wanted to get my work done. One day, she randomly grabbed my ponytail on the way back in from some kind of spirit week thing." She paused, seeing that her compainion was staring at her with a raised eyebrow, he hands stopped mid-air while cutting a tomato. "It was junior high. Did you ever do stuff like that?"

"Not really. I was in football, so I got exempt from a lot of that sissy, happy school spirit crap. But, please, go on." He waved the knife around and went back to slicing.

"Ok, well...she started grabbing my arm to turn me around and asking if I wanted to fight. You know that macho gang-wannabe stuff?" she was answered with a destracted _hmm._ "Well, I laugh when I'm nervous, and I kept saying no and walking on, but the last time she did it, I laughed...I _laughed_ , at this girl who was bent on getting into a fight. When I went to walk away again, she started hitting me. She was just kind of flailing. It didn't really hurt, because it was jsut glancing blows, on my back and arms. But, it was enough to make me huddle against the lockers, trying to protect my face. I could see all the kids standing around us, hear them shouting. They had their phones out, taking videos of it. I tried to move away...and I got punched across the face." Tammy stopped, unknowingly rubbing her cheek, as if the injury had only just happened. She sighed, "Nichole would have kept hitting me, if one of my friends hadn't grabbed me away. To this day, I still haven't managed to thank this girl enough. She was a big girl, compared to me and Nichole. Tall, broad. She pulled me away and just...kind of...encircled me in her arms."

Eliot turned away, every muscle tense. The knuckles of his hand were white around the knife. "What happened?"

"Hmm? Oh, my science teacher, Mr. Cruz came and broke up the group of people. Took me to the office. On the way there, I just happened to look down an notice that my necklace was on the ground." When she looked up and saw he confused face, she explained. "It was just a red ribbon with a dragon pendant looped on it. My mom told me that Nichole had probably been trying to untie the ribbon, and ended up getting my hair instead. Anyway, uh, I gave my statement to the school security guard. I was one of the kids they knew really well. I always stopped to talk to them, and they knew my history with the other girl. Cops got called, Nichole had been on some sort of probation. She got suspended for the rest of the school year, so she had to repeat the grade the next year. Mom took me to the hospital, she thought that maybe the punch had broken my cheek or nose, because Nichole's fist pushed my glasses againse the base of my nose. And I had plastic glasses at the time, so they didn't break, but they left a hell of a bruise. The doctor looked at me, got x-rays. Not broken bones, just a giant bruise and some red knuckle prints on my back. Mom tried to get me to stay home the next day, but I told her that if I let this get to me, then Nichole won."

"That's a good philosophy to have."

"I was just putting on a brave face for my mom. She had enough going on, and didn't need to deal with me being a crybaby."

"There's nothing wrong with taking a day off after taking a beating."

"It was one fight. She barely got a hit in."

"Sweetheart, that wasn't a fight. That was a massacre. Why didn't you fight back?"

"I was scared to. I knew if I managed to get a hit in, the punches would get worse. Plus, I would have been suspended too. I school system was stupid about protecting yourself. The way they saw it, it didn't matter who threw the first punch, both people fighting were diciplined."

"You're right, that is stupid. What ever happened to what's-her-name?"

"Nichole? No idea. I moved to another part of town the next year, went to a different high school than the rest of my middle school friends. We moved to another state halfway through my freshman year."

"That sucks."

Tammy shrugged, "Better opportunities for my mom. I hated the school system in Mississippi, all Bible-thumping, bygoted, jerks. No body like me until my senior year, when I figured out that in order for other people to see me as more than a know-it-all bookworm, I had to present myself as more than that. I went through kind of a transformation." Eliot set down a sandwich in front of her. "Thank you." She took a bite.

When the moan of approval came out of her throat, Eliot was more than a little surprised. He raised an eyebrow at her, laughing when she cover her mouth, wide-eyed in shock.

"I know my cooking is good, but damn."

She swallowed the bite she had in her mouth. "I am so sorry. I have no idea where that came from. I-wha...what the hell?"

"It's fine." He snickered. "Hardison seems to like my sandwiches enough to steal them when I put them in the fridge for later. And I've managed to render Parker speechless."

"Which is quite a feat, I take it."

"I don't know what the hell goes on in that girl's head, but I'm am completely convinced she's certifiably crazy."

"Well, yeah. Technically, who on your team is completely sane?"

Eliot shook his head, his mouth full of food, he waved a finger at her. "Nuh-uh, nope, don't you try to psycho-analyze me...or whatever it is that you do."

Tamara chuckled. "I've been _profiling_ you since the minute you stepped into my field of vision. It's a habit I picked up from my college days. My professor used to have us keep journals of all our friends, family, people we knew. We'd turn them in, and then he'd grade on how deep we went, depending on the chapter of the book we were working on."

He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well, that's just creepy. You're telling me that you tried to delve into the deepest parts of the mind in people you had a personal connection to, then got graded depending on how much crazy you see in them?"

"Basically. It was all fun and games until I found out that I was the only one that wasn't putting stuff like 'Subject likes cats...probably stems from daddy issues." The hitter choked on his food laughing. She tried to pat him on the back, only to realize that the motion hurt her side.

Noticing this, he stood up and gestured with his hands. "Here, lemme see." After her shirt was out of the way, he moved to bandages, checking to see if anything had changed. "Your skin's a little puffy. Could be an infection, could be nothing." He grabbed the antibiotic ointment and slathered it over the now pink skin. "You're gonna have to take it real easy the next few days if you don't want to pop those stitches through the skin."

"I'm guessing that would hurt..."

"Yeah, a lot. You ever pulled an earring out?"

"No."

"Ah, nevermind then." He sat back down to finish his food. They were both quiet for a while.

"So, what exactly do you do? I mean, I know you guys help people, but what do you do that makes you be able to stay and protect the hostage?"

"Hey, you're not a hostage. You're a guest...under house arrest."

"Yeah, I'm a hostage."

"Whatever. Well...we use unconventional methods to take back things that have been stolen from people who can't afford to lose things. We pick up where the law leaves off."

"But, what do _you_ do?"

"I'm the retrieval specialist."

She stared at him blankly. "Meaning?"

"What you saw the last night...that's what I do. Along with grifting."

"Excuse me, grifting?"

"Yeah, playing a part and getting people to do what you want through subtle hints and persuasions."

"So...subterfuge."

"Something like that, yeah."

"What about the others? In layman's terms?"

"Well, Nate's the mastermind behind everything, finds clients, comes up with plans. Sophie's a professional grifter."

"That explains how she managed to make me conceid to taking all those clothes."

"Yeah, she'll do that to you. She once made me pour and prepare her tea without asking, just random words and touches."

"That's cool."

"Eh, not when it's happening to you. Hardison's our hacker, which is how he knew all those things from your online profiles. Parker...for lack of a better word, Parker's a theif. It's ridiculous how quiet that girl is."

"I've noticed." Looking down at her plate, she realized that she had eaten every bite of the sandwich, almost without noticing. She got up and went to rinse off her plate, only to have Eliot take it from her. "I can rinse off a plate and put it in the dishwasher. I'm not completely helpless."

"No, but considering that you are still a guest here, I am obliged to make sure you don't do much."

"Damn Southern hospitality." However, she gave up and gave it to him. "I hate being useless."

"You won't be for long. Once you heal up a bit, Randall's got a party goin' on next weekend, and you are going to help us get in."

"How? By now, he'll have pulled my name from the employee regestry, taking away any privlages I had in the company."

"You'll see. Once he sees you, he won't be able to help himself. He'll be dying to know how you excaped. Men like him crave control, and anything they don't have control over, they obsess about. You are gonna be our ticket to bring him down."

"I won't be able to do anything without the information that's at my house."

"We'll worry about that tomorrow. And we'll worry about the party next week. For now, worry about getting better. Alright."

"Are you always this sweet to the ladies."

"Only the pretty ones," he joked. It made her blush, but she knew he was joking. "Come on, it's late, and you need to sleep."

"Right. Um, goodnight, Mr. Spencer."

"Eliot."

"Eliot. Right. Well, goodnight, Eliot."

"Sleep tight." And he walked off in the direction of the couch.

She made her way to her room, suddenly tired to her bones. How the hell could they possibly get her out of this crap?


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four~Concerning Information**_

The next morning, everyone else was already up, going over what needed to be done, when Tamara managed to trudge her way out of the room. She lowered herself into a kitchen chair, rubbing her temples and generally looking like crap. Parker sat down next to her and began jabbering away in her ear about who-knows-what. She wasn't really paying attention until she heard someone else say something.

"Huh? What?" She looked around.

Hardison gave her a look. "We were just talking about how we were gonna get the stuff from your house. Parker and I are gonna go and collect it. Are you ok, baby girl?"

"Um..." she closed her eyes and tried to focus on what he was saying. "I haven't had coffee in two days and my contacts have dried out, so I can't see anything and it's hurting my head."

"Dont' you have some contact solution?" Sophie asked innocently.

"Yeah, totally, I grabbed it out of my apartment when I left to go get my ass handed to me two days ago. No, I don't have any. Nor do I have my glasses. I've got, like, three pairs. Unfortunately, I don't have access to any of them because I'm not allowed to leave the apartment."

"Uh, somebody get our guest some coffee...please." Nate had a slightly worried look. "Now, before she bites off all our heads." Tamara sent a hard look in his general direction. Parker suddenly reappeared with a steaming hot cup of fresh coffee.

"Oh, thank heavens."

"Sugar? Cream?" Sophie suggested.

"Please." Both were set in front of her with a spoon. She put two spoonfuls of sugar in, and the stirred in enough milk to turn it pale.

"That ain't coffee." Eliot wrinkled his nose. "That is coffee flavored milk."

"Hey, don't hate. My Aunt Freida used to say, 'I like my men like I like my coffee. Light and sweet.' Funny enough, she got that from her mom, who used to say something similar, but with 'dark and strong' at the end."

"Can I try some?" Parker asked inqusitivly.

Tamara squinted at her, pulling her cup away protectivly. "Mine. Get your own."

"Yeah, I dunno if that's such a good idea, mama." Hardison patted the blonde's back. "Remember what happened when you went to the Chocolate Festival." He whistled as he moved his hand next to his head in the universal sign for 'cukoo'.

"Can we get back to work, please?" Eliot rolled his eyes at the childish antics.

"Right, yes. Tamara," Nate addressed the nearly blind woman. "We need to know exactly where to find all your hidden copies. I'm sure Parker could find them herself, but it would go much smoother if we know where they are beforehand."

"I'd have to give you a layout of my house."

"I gotcha, girl." Hardison pulled out a blueprint of her house. "Point it out, and we can get goin'."

She leaned in really close. "This is too complicated, I don't even know what I'm looking at. Here," Tammy pulled the notepad towards her. She quickly doodled a layout of her house, circling the places where she had hidden the papers, and listing the combinations for each place. At the bottom, she made a simplified explination of how to get to the copies on her computer. Despite not being a hacker, she had managed to make a rather secure hidden folder. "Easier this way."

The theif and hacker looked at the picture. "Aw, I wish you hadn't told me the combinations. It's not as much fun," Parker whined.

"While you're there, if you could grab a few things for me? Most important, my glasses."

"You got it. Write a list of what you need, we'll get 'em."

"Thanks." She jotted down what she needed, then handed that to them as well.

Hardison took one look at it and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Um, I'm not so sure I'm gonna know where some of these things are, so I'm just gonna give this to Parker, and she can...y'know." Tamara chuckled into her mug as she took a long sip of the caffinated necter.

After casing the house, and asserting that there were no men inside or in view of where they needed to go, Parker and Hardison managed to sneak past the one guard in the front of the house. The hacker immediately went to her desktop and started to work his magic. Likewise, Parker followed Tamara's map to get what they needed.

"I still don't understand why it's such a big deal?"

"Parker, of course, it's a big deal. I ain't gonna go snoopin' around her delicute, feminine...things. And I don't know where to even look for her personal products."

"Well, where would you put things like that, if you were a girl?"

"Woman, I don't know!"

"Okay! No need to get snappy." She came up to the desk, dropping a stack of papers next to him. "Got all that, now to the bedroom." And off she went.

"Why the hell would she think it was even a good idea to give _me_ that list? She should know guys don't do that kind of stuff."

"Hardison, stop your whining." A voice crackled over the comm.

"Eliot, she was askin' me to raid her bathroom and find her lady products, and..." he looked to make sure Parker was occupied, "her panties. I ain't gonna go diggin' around in drawers if I ain't connected to said drawers."

"Hardison." An amused Tamara piped up.

"Tammy?!"

"Sweetie, while I appreciate your sentiment, if I was going to be offended by you digging through my stuff, I wouldn't have asked you to. No offence to Parker, but I trust you a lot more to not steal something."

"None taken," Parker skipped back into the office with a duffle bag. "Hey, did you want the red ones, or the green ones?"

"Oh, lord have mercy." Hardison lowered his face to his hands.

"Both, if you please. And if you could grab some extras from the top drawer, I would be ever so grateful. No telling how long I'm going to be here."

"Damn, woman, how many sets of underwear do you need?!" the hacker was getting more and more exasperated.

"Unlike you, Hardison, most women don't wear the same pair for a week at a time." Eliot commented.

"Wha-I don't...Eliot, I do not wear the same pair of underwear for a week!"

"Then shut up."

"Where did you say your glasses were?"

"On my nightstand to the left of the bed."

"Kay."

"I'm almost done. Thank God, I can get out of this akward situation," he muttered to himself as he finished up wiping the computer. "Let's get the hell outta here." He gathered up his equipment as Parker grabbed the bag. He noticed that it rattled.

"What the hell is in there?"

She reached in and pulled out a pill bottle. Shaking it, she said, "Zyrtec."

Hardison shook his head, "Whatever, man."

Upon reentering the apartment, Hardison walked straight past the woman waiting on her effects and went to his computer. Parker handed her the bag, pulling out her glasses case and two pill bottles.

"Thank you, you have no idea how bad my head is killing me." Tamara slid the lenses over her eyes, visibly relaxing her face once they settled. "So much better."

"And I got the meds you asked for."

"Cool beans. Thanks. Hardison, did you get what you needed?"

"Yeah, we got it all. And, once again, I wiped your hard drive so they can't trace anything."

"Wait, wait. Hold on." Eliot stepped between Tammy and the screens. "Why do you medication?"

All eyes turned to her. "Guys, it's no big deal."

"Do you have some kind of condition?" Sophie put a hand on her new friend's arm.

"No. I mean, not anything bad." Nobody looked convinced. She sighed. "It's Zyrtec and Montelukast. One is to combat allergies, the other is to help prevent asthma attacks."

"You're asthmatic?" The hitter was getting more and more concerned by the moment.

"Well, yeah. It used to be really bad when I lived in Florida, but we moved to the desert and it dried up. A few years ago, I had an asthma attack while at band practice. I had forgotten all about it, so I didn't really know what it was. I was misdiagnosed at the emergancy room as just having sinus drainage and heat exhaustion. Two months later, my doctor found out that my asthma came back. It's no where near as bad as it was when I was a kid. Use to I couldn't even go outside to play without having my inhaler on me. I had to use a nebulizer every night, which was the only way to deal with asthma at the time."

"What triggered it?" Nate asked from the stairs.

"Uh, being out in the heat with a 30 pound instrument strapped around my neck and marching while blowing into said intrument."

"So, exersice?"

"Basically."

"How the hell did you keep up with me with asthma, a stab wound, and a bullet in your leg?" Eliot seemed slightly impressed.

"Adrenaline is a wonderful thing." Everyone nodded at the statement. "Like I said, it's no big deal. I just have to be careful about how much I do at one time. I haven't had an asthma attack in months."

"Well, let's try to keep it that way," Nate patted her shoulder. "Don't need you dying on the job."

"Job? What job?"

"I thought Eliot told you...we need you to help us con Randall at the party Saturday."

"And I told him, I won't be able to get you in. By now, he'll have changed everything, so I can't get into the system or get you clearence to anything."

"Maybe, but you do have an invitation, right?" the grifter inquired.

"Well, yeah. But they were issued a month ago. I'm probably not on the list anymore. And I'm sure security will have their eye out for me, just in case I attempt to make an appearence."

"Maybe. But right now, that's kind of what we're counting on." Hardison pulled something up on the big screen. "This is the layout of the area where the gala is going to be held. Now, here," it moved, "is where we need to be."

"That's the C.E.O.'s office. What makes you think he'll have anything still in there?"

"Well, he won't. That's the thing. We need to get in there and force him to confess."

"He'll never do that! Men like him make a living by keeping secrets. Do you have any idea how many times this guy has gotten into some sort of lawsuit and squirmed his way out of it by charming an-and bribing his way out of it?! What the hell do you expect to do that will get him to tell you anything?"

"We are going to steal his business right out from under him." That was all that was said on the matter, leaving more questions that answers to the confused civilian.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five~Time to Party**_

Saturday came far too soon for Tamara's liking. The morning of the end-game, Eliot had checked her wounds and stated that she was well enough to go, barring that she didn't do much fighting and rip her almost healed stitches out. The joke was resiprocated with a dry look. Upon questioning what she was going to wear, Sophie just laughed.

"Sweetie, do you really think I'd go out to get you clothes, knowing full well that we may need you for the con, and _not_ get you a dress. I have the perfect dress you. Come along." And with that, they disappeared into the guest bedroom for a good long while. The rest went to their respective apartments to get ready for the evening.

Seven o'clock rolled around, Nate and Eliot were dressed to the nines, the latter with his hair pulled back and his glasses perched on his nose. Parker was going to be pulling a lift while Hardison would be directing from the apartment. The four con artists were starting to get impatient as they waited for the two women to finish getting ready.

"Come on, we're runnin' late!" Eliot checked his watch again.

"Don't get your trousers in a twist." Sopie glided down the stairs in a gorgeous cream colored gown and silver shoes. "Gentlemen, I present to you, the new and improved...Tamara," she said with a flourish, gesturing behind her.

Following her hand, both men were left speechless. Sophie had plucked and primped almost all day long, and the results were amazing. They almost couldn't tell it was the same person. Her long purple dress flowed over her body like water, showing off her curves in the best way possible. She wore strappy silver heels similar to Sophie's, shown by the slit in her dress that ran all the way up her good leg. Her back was mostly exposed by the halter-style v-neck. And her dark hair had been curled and coifed perfectly to frame her oval face. Gone were her glasses, Parker having grabbed her extra set, and the makeup accentuated every feature, most notibly her large, green eyes.

"Is this really neccesary?" Tamara asked. "I feel ridiculous."

"You look fine, darling. Boys tell her she looks fine."

There was a following of all three of them stumbling over themselves to assure her that she looked good. Which she obvisously didn't buy, but it was sweet that they tired. She was so tired of being cooped up in the apartment, that she even started looking foward to this stupid gala. Not that she was liking the idea of getting shot at again, or ending up getting taken Randall's prisoner. If their new intel was anything to go by, he had a habit of making sure people didn't come back to bother him. The fact that she had evaded him for this long was a miracle in and of itself. All week, she had been worried about the event...and now that the day had come, she was shaking. Her leg still wasn't healed all the way, so she was unsteady on the five inch heels, which normally wouldn't be a problem, but tonight made her feel like she would fall at any moment.

Nate started listing off jobs. "Hardison, get crackin' on those schematics. Sophie and I will deal with smoozing Randall. Now, Eliot, twenty minutes after we get there, you bring Tamara in."

"What are you going to do in those twenty minutes?" the nervous woman asked.

" _We_ are going to make sure that _your_ boss is freaked out enough to believe anything, and if all goes according to plan, he'll tell us everything we need to know. Without much pushing. You got that?"

"Yeah, I think I do."

"Good. Let's get going."

The women got their coats, and they made their way down to the lobby. They took two cars, just in case one party had to make a getaway. Once they were situated, she started messing with the necklace at the base of her throat.

"That doesn't look like something Sopie picked out."

"Huh? Oh, no, that's because she didn't. This was something my great-grandmother left for me after she died. It's one of the smaller things she made. Nana was a jewler, a tiny woman, but she made _huge_ jewlery. I think this is the only thing she ever made normal sized." She went back to fiddling with it.

"Hey, it's gonna be ok. We know what we're doin'. Don't you worry. Just keep close to me, and I'll make sure nothing happens to you. Alright?" He put his hand over her's on her knee and squeezed it reasuringly. "I promise, you will make it through the night."

"You can't promise that," she said meekly.

"Maybe not...but, I _can_ promise to do my damnedest to make sure. Ok?" She nodded slowly. "Ok. Now, listen. When we go in there, stay close to me. If you can, keep a hand on me, so I know if something happens. We have to give the illusion that you and I have known each other for a long time, that we have some kind of relationship. It'll make them think a little harder about trying to pull somethin'." He gave her a once over. "You're gonna need somethin' to protect yourself with, in case they do manage to get you away from me."

"Sophie gave me something."

"Did she? What?" he raised a brow at her, looking her over, checking for anywhere she could possibly be hiding a weapon. There weren't many places, not with that dress.

"She told me not to tell."

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Of course she did. Just...be careful, alright? Don't take any unneccesary risks, please. I don't need to be running after you just because you decided to run off and play hero."

"No unneccesary risks, got it. Believe me, I'm not looking to make anymore trouble for myself that I'm already in."

"We're here." They sat in the car for a few minutes, before Eliot noticed her getting anxious again. Once again, he took her hand. "It's gonna be alright. Here, Hardison had an extra comm laying around." She put it in. "Can you hear everything ok?"

"Yeah."

"Good, because we're up." He got out and went around to her side of the car to open her door. Offering her a hand, he gave her a gentle smile of encouragement. "You got this. I'm right here." She took his hand and managed to stand without tripping. From there, it was just a matter of walking in a straight line and not falling on her face. Then again, she had her long-haired savior's strong arm to hold onto. They entered into the large ballroom, and it seemed like all eyes were immediately on her. Her grip on Eliot tightened, which he reciprocated.

"You're doing great, Tammy," Sophie's voice reasured her. "Now, confidence is key here. As long as you look like you're on top of the world, they will believe you are. We need Randall to think that his men never touched you, that you were and are untouchable. And you are. As long as we are all here, they will never lay a hand on you ever again." Their eyes met across the room, and their accomplaices smiled and waved. "Smile, dear, you look like you just ate something rotten. Make it seem like you are old friends. Eliot, start making your way over, slowly. Mingle as you go."

"I got it, Soph." It was like a switch. He went from surly hitter Eliot Spencer, to friendly date, Martin Lorn. Everyone was speechless. They had all been told that she had cheated the company. That she had either been taken into custody, or killed. Now that she was here, people were curious. But none more so than her old boss, Joshua Randall. He stood there, visibly shaken, watching them make their way towards him. He had honestly thought the woman would have been out of the country by this time. Not that she would have been able to leave with as much heat as he was putting out for her to be found.

"Ah, Charlotte, how are you?" 'Charlotte was Sophie's alias for the night. Rodrick was Nate.

"Tamara, darling, I've been wonderful. How about you?"

"Oh, you know, work, work, work."

"As usual. And who might this handsome young thing be?"

"This is my boyfriend, Martin."

"She's being a bit modest there, ma'am." He laid the accent on thick, reaching to take Sophie's hand. "I'd be her fiancee."

"Excuse me, fiancee?" Randall cut in.

"Mr. Randall, I didn't see you there."

"Yeah, I only run this company." He remarked sardonically. "When did you get engaged?"

Eliot cut in, "Tammy and I have been engaged for nearly two years. We met back in college. I tell ya, poor girl didn't know what to do with herself when I followed her to New York and proposed."

"Well, sweetheart, I think just about any woman would be flabbergasted to find her usually stoick boyfriend do something so romantic." Tamara nudged him with her hip. She saw Eliot give her a look.

"Uh, Tamara," Randall motioned off to the side. "May I speak with you?"

She felt her heart jump into her throat. _Shit_ , she thought. "Sure."

They walked away from the group, and she could feel them staring holes into her back. This was not part of the plan. Randall had a hand on her arm, leading her away. Once they were out of earshot, he yanked her around. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Ow, you're hurting me."

"Yeah, and believe me, I would like to hurt you a lot more after what you pulled. I have built this company from the ground up, and I am not about to let you destroy that. You are very lucky your _fiancee_ is here. Martin, was it? Too bad for him, he'll be a widowed groom. Or maybe, you'd like to be buried together. Wouldn't that be romantic?"

"Tammy, get away from him. We can't see you we can't protect you!" Eliot whispered. "If you don't come out, I'm comin' in after you."

Tamara yanked her arm away from Randall. "I'm not afraid of you, Joshua."

"You should be."

"No. You should be the one who's afraid of me. Because, I swear, I will bring you down. You have hurt enough innocent people, and I, for one, do not intend to let you leave here tonight without a pair of cuffs around your wrists."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" he was leaning over her. Once again, Randall had a hold on Tamara's arm. "Y'know, there was a time when I would have bent you over a desk and fucked you raw. Actually...that's not a half bad idea."

"That's it, I'm goin' in." Eliot was stopped by the sound of Randall groaning.

"Oh, damn!" Hardison winced, watching the event unfold over the security cameras.

"Hardison, what just happened?"

"Mama just nail the bastard in the nads! You go girl."

Tamara leaned over Randall's crumpled form. "Touch me again, and it will be the last thing you ever touch. _That_ is a promise." With that, she turned and strut away from the man, back to her friends. She made it all the way to Eliot before her knees gave out. Luckily, he managed to catch her in such a way that it only looked like they were embracing. "Don't ever let me do something like that again."

"No problem. You ok? Let me see your arm." He gently took hold of her wrist.

"I'm fine."

"Darling, you have a bruise." Sophie and Nate gathered around her to make sure no one noticed the poor girl's distress. "It's not too noticable. Are you going to be alright to keep up?"

"We are bringing him down tonight. I am not backing down because of a bruise. I've had worse."

"I'll say," Eliot chuckled.

"Damn, this girl is tough. How the hell did Randall ever manage to scare her?"

"Well, Hardison, dear, there is something to be said about threatening a girl's family numerous times. Mostly, that she the girl will do anything to keep them safe."

Eliot took her hand, and began to pull her along, "Let's go dance. Get your mind off all this for a minute." They managed to get out on the floor right as a new song started playing. As the intro began, Tamara's face lit up.

"Oh, my god. I haven't heard this song in years." She immediately started moving. Eliot took one of her hands, and put the other on his shoulder. "My mom and I used to dance to this when I was a kid." He pulled her in closer, moving slowly side to side. She started singing in his ear. "When marimba rhythms start to play, dance with me, make me sway. Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore, hold me close, sway me more." Eliot ever so slowly started guiding her through a dance movement similar to a tango.

 _Like a flower bending in the breeze_

 _Bend with me, sway with ease._ He dipped her.

 _When we dance you have a way with me_

 _Stay with me, sway with me._ He brought her back up, and they were nose to nose. And he noticed when her breathing changed. With the beat, they began moving.

 _Other dancers may be on the floor_

 _Dear, but my eyes will see only you._

 _Only you have that magic technique,_

 _When we sway I go weak_ She lowered herself, careful of her still-bad leg _I go so weak!_

 _I can hear the sounds of violins_

 _Long before it begins._

 _Make me thrill as only you know how,_

 _Sway me smooth, sway me now_ All eyes were on them, not that either of them really noticed. Back and forth they went.

 _Sway me, make me_ With every other step, their faces turned away, only to meet again in the middle.

 _Thrill me, hold me_

 _Bend me, ease me_ Once again, she dipped

 _You have a way with me!_ She came back up, and he spun her around quickly.

Nate leaned over to his compainion. "Did you know either of them could dance like that?"

Sopie shook her head, her eyes glued to the duo on the dancefloor. "I figured Eliot might have learned the basics, but there was no doubt in my mind that Tamara has never had the chance."

 _Other dancers may be on the floor_

 _Dear, but my eyes will see only you._

 _Only you have that magic technique_

 _When we sway I go weak_

 _I go weak!_

Nate and Sophie were not the only ones watching with unbridled intrest. Randall had recovered from his injury, and had been staring daggers at Tamara. He wanted her, and she had kicked him to the side after his first advances. He had brushed it off, plotting for nearly two years to snap her up. Only to have this guy randomly show up and pull her away, make her stand up to him more than she ever had in the entire time she'd been working for him.

 _I can hear the sounds of violins_

 _Long before it begins_

 _Make me thrill as only you know how,_

 _Sway me smooth, sway me now._

 _Make thrill as only you know how,_

 _Sway me smooth, sway me now._

 _Sway me,_

 _Sway me,_

 _Sway me now._

The song trailed off, and Eliot just held Tamara for a moment, staring at her, before slowly backing away and bowing to her. Her painted lips turned up in a shy smile, and she curtsied as best as she could. Her leg was killing her, considering she hadn't done that much exercise on it since she had been shot. Eliot could see that, and he placed himself under her arm. Despite being two inches shorter than the hitter, the heels added another three inches on him, which made him just the right height to be used as a prop. They smiled around to the audience that had accumulated during the dance. Once the applause subsided, they managed to get off the dancefloor.

"You alright?"

"That was fun." She smiled at him.

"But?"

"But...my leg is on fire."

Eliot chuckled. "Come on. We'll find you a place to sit." They made their way over to the tables, and he sat her down _gently_. Ever so gently. "You want somethin' to drink?"

"Please." His icey blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses.

"Okay, I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." Then he was gone. Eliot stopped at the bar, getting hisself a glass of whiskey, guessing and ordering a champagne for her. On his way back, he noticed two of Randall's goons looking around...and standing in the corner where he had left Tamara. He picked up the pace, elbowing his way through the crowd. "Nate, get to the northeast corner!" As he spoke, he saw Tamara stand up with men on both sides, from her stance, he could tell at least one of them had a gun in her back. She was limping more now. Either she was in more pain, or she was trying to slow them down. His bet was on the stall. The three of them disappeared before he coul get halfway across the room. "Damn it! Hardison, what you got? Can you track them?"

"Randall had all the cameras shut off, I got no eyes!" By the time Eliot was at the table, he had already dropped the glasses and spilt the drinks all over his tux.

"What about Tammy's earbud? Did you give it to her?" Sophie was on one side of the hitter, Nate on the other.

"Yeah, but it's offline for some reason."

"You guys, we gotta find her," Parker whispered from whichever air vent she was crawling through. "If Randall gets his hands on her, there's no telling what he'll do. Did you hear the threats he was making earlier. I don't think I like what he was insinuating."

Eliot's eyes widened, "He wasn't insinuating anything. He was promising her... _Damn it_!" And they were off running down the halls they had seen Tamara's captors going.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six~Don't Let Go**_

 _ **AN~Just a warning, there are going to be some**_ **very** _ **explicit details in this chapter, which is why this is now an M rating instead of a T. Happy reading, drop me a review.**_

"Hardison, get those camaras up and running."

"I'm trying, man! This security system is ridiculous. It's like they literally turned off all the power running to the electrical system, except that it is impossible. The lights would be off, or at least have flickered."

"Hardison, get your shit together! We need to find her!"

"I understand that. But I can't do anything if I don't have connection."

"Eliot, calm down."

"Nate, don't tell me to calm down. We gotta find her."

"I know, I know. And we will, but in order for us to be able to help her, we need to keep a level head."

"I AM CALM!"

Eliot stumbled. He'd been punched across the face by Sophie. It was enough to cool him off. "You are not the only one worried about Tammy. I agree, we need to find her, before Joshua Randall makes good on his threats."

"Wait, what threats?"

"Hardison?" Nate asked.

"I found a bunch of shady e-mails hidden down deep in Tammy's computer. It looks like she may have deleted them, and then wiped her computer a couple dozen times. I would have told you sooner, but it took me a while to put them back together. It turns out that Randall's been puttin' the moves on our girl. There's all kinds of creepy stuff in here, from bad poetry to...oh shit."

"What? Hardison, what is it? Hardison?"

"I-I don't even know how to discribe how messed up this man is. I'm sending it to your phone." Nate's phone went off, and he opened the attatchment. The first was a picture of Tamara completely naked, taken from her bedroom window. Her hair was wet, meaning she had just gotten out of the shower, and she was slathering lotion on her legs. There were more just like it, some where she was naked, some not. At one point, there was one where she was masturbating, to which they all looked away. Nate slid his finger to the left, changing it to another picture.

The pictures that were pulled up made Sophie gasp, Nate closed his eyes, and Eliot saw red.

This one of a different girl. She was tied up in a very uncomfortable looking posititon, with a black latex mask and a ball-gag. She was hanging from the ceiling and attatched to some sort of device. And she was bleeding, there was a hand visible in the bottom left corner with a bloodied glove and knife. Over the picture was a caption that read 'Thinking of you'.

"Holy hell." Eliot was immediately in motion. "Get on those camaras up and running. You're gonna have to be our eyes."

"Is there anything he owns that he could leave the building?"

"Nate, this guy could stay _in_ the building and do whatever he wanted to. He's got three houses across the U.S., another six in Europe. He owns a dozen warehouses across the state. There is no way we are gonna know exactly where they went without-" he was inturrupted by a loud beep. "What the..."

"What the hell is going on?"

"Aw, yeah, baby. That's my girl."

"What is it?"

"Tammy just activated her comm."

"Tamara?!" Eliot yelled, putting his finger on the earbud. There was a series of strange noises. He laughed, "Good girl."

"Eliot, what was that?" Sophie struggled to keep up in her heels and skirt.

"In all the time you've known me, Soph, and you still don't know what that was?"

"Not really."

They came to a stop at the door to the stairwell. "That was her, tapping out SOS on her earbud." They were off again. "She must not be in a place where she can talk right now. She's listening, but can't communicate out loud. Tam, I'm gonna ask directions, ok? Tap once for the first option, twice for the second, once for yes, twice for no. You got that?" _Thump_ "Good. Now, up or down?" _Thump thump_. "Down it is." They started running.

"Hardison, you got a visual yet?"

"Almost there."

"Are you still on the move?" _Thump._ "We may be able to catch up to them." _Thump thump._ "What?" _Thump thump_. "No? No, we won't catch up?" _Thump._ "Are you in a car?" _Thump._ "Guys, they've already left the building."

"I'm tracking Tammy's comm right now. It looks like their heading east."

"What's east of here, Hardison?" Parker appeared next to them.

"Uh...lots of stuff. They could be going to any number of places, including the ones that Randall owns."

"Keep tracking, give us directions as we go. We gotta get to the cars." They made it to the garage, Sophie and Nate in one vehicle, Eliot and Parker in another.

"I've got your GPS's set to track Tamara. Just follow the flashing green light." Hardison hadn't even finished talking before Eliot was speeding off after their target. They followed for a good ten minutes, but it wasn't until the tiny light made a sudden and very sharp U-turn. They seemed to zigzag back and forth for a moment before they turned right and kept going. "What the hell was that?"

"Randall probably figures someone's after him. He's making sure anyone who gets asked about a big black SUV won't know which one their talking about." Luckily, the evasive manouvers gave them enough time to catch up a bit. "Where the hell is he going?" He was watching the indicator, seeing that it had stopped. "Hardison, where are they?"

"It looks like some kind of...apartment complex. But there's no one there. I'm looking up the particulars...and it says that this is one of the areas all around the city that Randall has been buying up and building on. Expanding his buisness. The apartments are scheduled to be demolished in a few weeks."

"Thinks no one would think to look at the abandoned apartment incase things go south and he gets the cops called on him. Unfortunately, we are not the cops." Eliot smiled.

"Guys...Eliot's freaking me out. He's got that scary look he sometimes gets before bashing someone's head in." Parker leaned away from the hitter.

"Well, that's probably because he is planning on busting someone's head in. And saving the damsel in distress. Two birds with one stone, as it were."

"If there's one thing I know about this girl, Nate, is that she's no damsel in distress." It took them another twenty minutes to make it to the apartment complex. As soon as the car stopped, Eliot was out and running, didn't even bother to turn off the cops.

"You guys might want to hear this." Suddenly, their ears were filled with the sound of punches landing. Even through the earbud, Tamara's cries were muffled.

"You have been a thorn in my side for the last time, Tamara, dearest." _Slap_. "You fooled me into thinking that maybe, _just maybe_ , we might have a chance. And then, what's this? I find out that you are engaged. Ha! I don't buy it, darling. If you had even been dating someone, I would have known."

"There is no possible way you could ever know what I do outside of work. Hell, you barely know what I do in your own building."

"Oh, but I do. You see, Tammy...may I call you Tammy?" There was no answer. "Whatever. _Tammy_ , I've been paying very close attention to you. Oh, yes. I made sure that I knew everything you did on the clock and off. Obviously you would know that. I know you got my e-mails."

"You mean your creep-mail. Yeah, I got that."

"And yet, instead of going to the police, like you probably should have, you said nothing. Not to me, not to the authorities. You acted like they had never happened. Now, why would do that?" Again, no answer. "I _know_ , Tammy. I know, what you really want."

"You don't know anything."

"I _know_ ," his voice started rising, "that you want me, just as much as I want you. What other possible reason would you have for not turning me in? What I don't know, is why... _Why_ would you bring that long-haired, muscle-headed _cowboy_...to my gala? He's not your fiancee. Hell, he's not even your boyfriend. It is impossible for you to have anyone. No one would ever be interested in you. No one except me, that is. I made sure, because I care for you so, I made sure that you didn't have anyone hanging on from your old life."

"Get your hands _off_ of me, you fucking bastard."

"Now, why would I want to do that? When all I ever want to do is touch you?" There was a sound of a struggle, the sound of Tamara scream as there was a sickening crunch. "That's right, scream for me, darling."

"Nate, how the hell are we gonna find out which one of these she's in?"

"Guys! Guys, I got visual! Oh, shit. But, it is not pretty."

"What's going on in there, Hardison?"

"I can't watch this, I can't. Mmh-mm, nope. I ain't watchin' that."

"Damn it, Hardison!"

"Dude, you will understand when you see. Take the stairs, go up three flights, then take a left down the long hallway. Their in the last apartment, at the end of the hall. Eliot, man, I know you don't like guns, but you might want to grab you some. They've got heavily armed men on every floor. I mean, military grade, classified shit goin' on up in there." Eliot rounded the corner, seeing the two meatheads turning to the sound of their footsteps. He was on them before they knew what was going on. "Or don't. That's cool too."

Up and up they went, every time, having to fight their way up. The whole time, the conversation between Tamara and Randall going on in the background. That is, until Hardison noticed something.

"Y'all, Randall's confessing to everything."

"What?!" Sophie pulled out her nightstick and smacked one of the guards in the face with it a few times.

"He-listen!"

"-and all that work you did will go to waste. We found the copies on your computer. And the ones you hid behind that picture of your mother. No one will ever know how much energy you put into trying to bring me down. And I will get away, scott free, as usual. Very nice touch, I think. Making sure you had extras, but..." he hissed, "all gone."

"Not all," Tamara panted, "You moron." They heard her coughing, then spit.

"What? What do you mean, 'not all'?"

"I mean, I made extra-extra copies. I kept them at my house."

"My men didn't find anything at your place."

"That's because my men got there first," she started laughing. "And they got the information off both my computers. You. Are. Finished."

There was another scramble, more blows being dealt. "What men? Is it that guy you brought to torture me with. _Martin_!" He spat the name out like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Is that it? Huh?! Because, I can promise you, my men will find this Martin. And when they do, I will make you watch as they feed him to the dogs, every single, horrifying bit of it. And when they're done, you will never see the light of day again."

"You can't do that. You can't just make me disappear."

"You want to bet?"

"He'll come for me. And then he'll come for you."

"Who? Martin?"

"Actually," they spun around, "The name's Eliot." Randall didn't have a chance to brace as Eliot slugged him across the face. A fight ensued, which ended with Randall laying on the ground bloodied, and knocked out cold. He made sure to cuff him with zip-ties before running to Tamara's side. She looked downright awful, and Eliot knew right then why Hardison refused to watch the video feed. She was strung up in a spread eagle fashion, her feet a good six inches off the ground. Her heels had been lost on the way down the stairs, and from the looks of her ankle, she had twisted it. Her beautiful purple dress was torn and bloodied, her hair a mess. She had multiple bruises swelling up on her face, and more all over her body, along with cuts littering her skin. On top of everything else, her arm hung at a bad angle, meaning that her shoulder was dislocated, probably even broken. "Nate, undo that rope. Slowly, be careful!"

They lowered her to the ground, Eliot covering her in his coat, as she groaned in pain. "Hardison?" she mumbled.

"You ok, baby girl?"

"I'll live. Did you get his confession?"

"All you just went through, and you're worried about whether or not we got a recording of him admitting to stealing from the company?" Eliot had a soft hold on her, just enough to keep her off the ground.

She chuckled painfully, "I'll be a professional grifter in no time."

"Yes, you will, darling. But, we can't worry about that now. Her shoulder is so far out of place, I don't know how it'll be fixed."

There was a groan from the corner, and they saw Randall getting up. He took one look at them and ran in the other direction.

"What are you all standing around here for? Go get him."

"Oh, don't worry about him. He'll get what's coming to him." Nate smiled, and as if on cue, sirens rang out and red and blue lights shown through the windows. Tamara laughed, only for it to be cut short as she curled in on herself. "What is it?"

"My shoulder, my ribs, everything? I don't know what's worse right now."

"Well, right now, we need to get your shoulder realigned, otherwise it will never heal right. Get her up on the table." They swept the random objects off the platform and laid her down. "Alright, sweetheart, I need you to make a fist. Tight fist, there ya go. I'm not gonna lie to ya, this is gonna hurt like hell." She didn't answer, just swallowed and nodded. "Here we go. One..." he yanked on her arm, popping it back into place. She screamed, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Ok, you're ok. All done."

Tamara took a deep breath. "Why...didn't you...count to three?"

The hitter chuckled, smoothing her hair away from her face. "If I had, you woulda tensed up, and made it harder and more painful to fix." By that time, the EMTs arrived and asked all of them to move away so they could take a look at her.

They put her on a stretcher and made their way down the stairs. Once outside, they saw that Detective Banano had gotten their tip-off and had Randall in custody. He made his way to them and spoke to the battered woman, "Ma'am. I'm Detective Banano, with the Boston Police Department." His thick Boston accent was soft and soothing. "These gentlemen are gonna take you to the hosptial, alright? After the doctors have taken a look at you, and I'm done with this schmuck, I'll come visit you to get your statement. If that's alright with you."

She nodded, "Just get him far away from me, and I'll give you everything you want." Banano gestured for the EMTs to put her in the ambulance. She stopped them, "Eliot?"

"Yeah? I'm right here."

"Do you mind riding with me to the hospital?"

Eliot gave her a soft smile and nodded his shaggy head. "You bet, darlin'. I ain't letting you out of my sight for a while." They loaded her up as he turned to the team, noticing that they were all staring at him. "Wha-y'know, I gotta-"

"No, it's good. Go on, make sure she's alright. We'll visit later. Keep us updated." Nate waved him off, winking at him before Eliot turned and climbed into the vehicle. As they sped away, he said, "Well, another good job, to all. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"Oh, me too." Parker raced back to the car.

"I must say, fighting crime does have a tendancy to make a girl a bit peckish." She ducked into the passenger seat. "We should probably get Tammy some flowers or something, let her know how much we appreciate what she did."

"Something tells me that Eliot's gonna let her know just how much we appreciate her," Hardison's amused voice said. "Who wants in on the bet. Buy in's $100. I say two days."

"Alec Hardison, have you no shame, betting on your friend's emotions like that?" Sophie feigned shock.

"It ain't like he gon' find out..." he trailed off. "He-he still got his earbud in, don' he?"

"Yes, I do. You're lucky Tamara's was knocked out that last time that Randall hit her," he whispered so the woman in question couldn't hear him over the sound of the ambulance and EMTs talking. He was holding her hand, as every bump of the vehicle shook her to the bone. Everything hurt, and they couldn't give her pain killers because they still had to assess the damage. "When we get out of the hospital, I'll be sure to let her kick your ass." He pulled out his comm and shut it off. The others had just made it to the apartment.

"Anybody know where I can hide?" the hacker's voice was cracking. He cleared his throat. "Seriously though, who wants in?"

All of them jumped in, laying their bets on the table.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven~ Healing**_

 _ **AN:Someone pointed out that I had made some spelling mistakes in the previous chapter. I would like to point out that when I said "the last punch knocked her out cold," I meant to say "the last punch knocked out her comm," as in the earpiece she was wearing. I do apologize for the mixup, let me know if there are any more questions about the story.**_

It was nearly midnight, but Eliot couldn't sleep...not yet. Tamara was in surgery. The EMTs had found signs of internal bleeding in her abdomen, from Joshua Randall repeatedly punching her in the gut. She also had a fractured jaw, two broken ribs, a sprained ankle, and multiple lacerations that would need stitches. All of those would need to be fixed while under anesthesia. The doctors were hopeful, considering how much she had been through and still remained consious, even through him relocating her shoulder. Tamara had looked absolutely aweful when they showed up and saved her from the man who had tormented her for over a year, but she smiled at him through the pain, reassuring him that she was fine.

Not one to sit still for long periods of time, Eliot paced back and forth in the waiting room. He had a cup of coffee in his hand, still full and gone cold. Two hours into the surgery, the other members of Leverage showed up. Parker took his cold beverage and replaced it with a bag of food.

"I'm not really all that hungry."

"Eliot, you need to eat." Sophie's mothering made him smile. They had all gone out to eat, and had a chance to get cleaned up and change, before coming to check up on their new friend. Even Hardison had left his cave of computers in favor of his bosom-buddy. "How is she?"

"In surgery. Docs think she'll pull through, but she's gonna be in here for a while. Guys, she busted up worse than we thought."

"No surprise there," Nate shook his head, "Randall was overly brutal. I'm just glad she'll be ok."

"I second that motion." Hardison raised his hand. He instantly regretted that action when the hitter's eyes turned to him, a spark of shut-the-hell-up in them. "What? Why you gotta be like that, man?"

"The betting pool?" Eliot made a sarcastic face, shaking his head a little. "Ain't nothin' goin' on with me and Tamara. She's a client, I'm just makin' sure she's ok."

"Liar." All eyes turned to Parker, she stood with her arms crossed and an angry look on her face.

"Pardon?"

"You're lying. You like her." Eliot rolled his eyes at Parker's childish ways. "Someone once told me that there are only two things in this world you can't hide: love and sneezes. All of us can tell you care about her, and you denying it isn't going to help anybody."

Right as he opened his mouth to retort, the surgery doors swung open, and the doctor he had previously spoke came striding towards them. "Mr. Spencer?"

"Hey, doc. How's she doin'?" He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from wringing together.

"As well as can be expected in such a situation. But, the surgery went well, we fixed the internal bleeding, set her ribs, stitched her up. I must say, you did an excelent job of relocating her shoulder. However, she may have trouble lifting her arm any higher than her shoulder once she wakes up. We've got her all set up, sleeping off the anesthesia at the moment. If all goes well, she'll be home within the week."

"Is it ok if we go see her?"

"Well, she is still asleep. And visitor hours won't be until tomorrow morning, I wouldn't recomend a large group of people for a day or so. One of you is welcome to stay with her for the night, we have cots in the rooms. However, we do need to know of any family that we could contact."

Everyone looked at each other. Sophie spoke up, "Tammy doesn't talk about her family much. We have no idea if there are any in the area."

"Alright. Well, it would be a good idea if someone she knew was there when she came to. If you will excuse me," he nodded his head and left.

"So," Nate clapped his hands together, "who's staying the night?" When no one spoke up, he rolled his eyes and started pointing at each of them. "Eenie, meenie, miney, moe." His finger landed on Eliot. "Good, it's settled. Go get comfy. The rest of us will come back in the morning to switch out." He turned back as an afterthought, "And by the way, you might want to grab a cup of ice chips, just in case. Surgery like that tends to leave a nasty taste in the mouth, take it from someone who knows." Then they all waved and walked away.

Nearly an hour had passed since Eliot had reclined back on the pallet in Tamara's room, a cup of ice chips sat next to him on the table as he flipped through the channels on the TV set up on the wall. Finally settling on some random cooking show, he rubbed his hand over his face. He was exhasted, and it was starting to drag him down. Eliot had almost drifted off when he heard a muffled groan. Sitting up, he sat up and moved to check on Tamara. Her eyes were fluttering, and the rise and fall of her chest becoming faster and more ragged. Suddenly, quiet moans passed through her lips, sounding all together scared, and her hands twitched on the blanket. He stood up and grabbed hold of her uninjured hand.

"Tammy? Hey, Tammy, wake up. You're alright. Come on, darlin', wake up." Her eyes opened all the way as he set the cup of ice in her hand. She closed the appendage around the now cold paper. "There ya go. Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Wh..." she swallowed thickly, as if her throat still didn't quite work right. "What...happened?"

"You had to go into surgery. You had a whole bunch of internal bleeding that they had to fix up. You're ok now."

"I hurt...everywhere." She took a sip of the melted ice water.

"I know. It's probably gonna feel like that for a couple of days at least. Doc's got you set up with a morphine drip. You want me to turn it up for you?"

"No, I'm ok. I need to feel this."

"Why? After what you've already been through, you have no reason to have to deal with anything else today."

"Because, it reminds me of what that creep did to all those other girls, the ones he sent me pictures of. The bastard deserves to rot in jail for the rest of his life. And I am going to remember every bit of what I'm feeling right now so that I can make sure he gets sentenced to the longest possible time he could possibly get." She painfully turned her head to look him in the eye, and he could see the determination in her hard stare. "I am going to take him and his whole damn company to the ground." Then, suddenly, Tamara's face seemed to change in palor. "Oh, god, I'm gonna puke." Despite just having had surgery, she heaved herself up to lean over the side of her bed. At the same time, Eliot yanked one of the blue hospital barf-bags out of the container next to the bed. He shoved it under her face right as she started gagging. Pulling her hair out of her face in a ponytail style, Eliot placed his hand on the back of her neck, rubbing it to help calm her down. When the last of her retching had subsided, he gave her a paper towel and the cup of water to wash out the bile, then tied up the bag and tossed it in the biohazard trashcan.

"Anesthesia doesn't take very well for some people. You're just lucky this didn't happen during the surgery, or you would have asparated."

"Yeah, thanks for that wonderful vision of me choking to death on my own vomit." She sipped slowly on her water. "Ugh, that was absolutely repulsive." She cut her eyes to Eliot, before both of them erupted into laughter. She held her ribs after a moment. "Ow. Oh, don't make me laugh." Tammy sighed. "Do you think the cafeteria is still open? I'm starving."

"Naw, doc said you can't eat anything until he checks up on you tomorrow. Which, as of right now, should be in..." He checked his watch, "six hours or so."

She groaned, "I hate hospitals." She shifted into a seemingly more comfortable position. "Ever since I was ninteen, I absolutely hated these places."

"Why's that?"

Tamara looked at him surprised. "I would have figured Hardison would have told everyone...I had a kid."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight~Blindesided**_

* **Previously***

 **OOOOH, plot twist!**

 **She groaned, "I hate hospitals." She shifted into a seemingly more comfortable position. "Ever since I was ninteen, I absolutely hated these places."**

 **"Why's that?"**

 **Tamara looked at him surprised. "I would have figured Hardison would have told everyone...I had a kid."**

*Present*

Eliot sat in silence, staring at the injured women in the hospital bed next to him. "You what?" He leaned closer to her with a strange look in his eye.

"I had a kid, a little boy, when I was nineteen." She pointed to the bag someone had brought from Nate's house. "If you can bring me that." He got up and laid it on the bed. She pulled it closer and rummaged around in it. After a moment, she pulled her phone out. "This is my son, Murphy." Turning it around, she smiled at him. "He'll be four in October."

Eliot took the device from her and looked closely at the little boy on the screen. "He's cute, looks like you."

"Thank you."

"So," he passed back to her, "where've you been hiding this kid the whole time? Why haven't we seen anything about him?"

"Well, I'm sure Hardison has, considering he's seen everything I've ever posted on Facebook. After the first of the really bad email from Randall, I sent him to my mom's in Florida for summer vacation. He was so excited to go to DisneyWorld and meet all his favorite characters." She smiled down at her phone. "I miss him, so much."

"Well, now that all this is done, you can call him back here." Eliot paused for a moment, then moved towards the door. "I've gotta make a call, let the others know you're awake." Without waiting for a reply, he left. Once he was far enough from the door, he pulled out his phone and speed dialed the hacker.

"Hey, man. What's up? How's Tammy doin'?" Hardison picked up on the first ring.

"She's fine, woke up a few minutes ago."

"Alright, I got you on speaker."

"Oh, good, 'cause I wanted to ask you a question."

"Shoot."

"Why the hell didn't you tell us Tamara had a kid?!" There was a collective noise of confussion over the phone. Everyone had been waiting on his phone call, but this was not what they were expecting.

"Oh, uh, well you see. Th-the thing about that is...sh-I...I figured girl wanted her privacy. Didn't concern us, didn't have anything to do with the case."

"Nothing to do wi-...Damn it, Hardison. What if Randall had gone after her kid?! What if he had found out where she sent him and he had gotten hurt?! The kid's not even four years old, you dumbass, son of a-"

"Alright, that's enough!" Nate yelled. "Hardison?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Why didn't you let us know about Miss Smith's child?"

"The kid's a thousand miles away. I didn't figure Randall would get to him. In fact, I don't even think Randall knew about the kid at all."

"How is that possible? He watched her house?"

"I don't know, man. The guy wouldn't bother when she was at work, and maybe the kid was gone on the days when the snoop was around. And if he did know, then he most likely kept away from him so he could get closer to Tammy."

"Whatever the reason, you still should have told us, Hardison." Sophie chastised. "Can you pull up a picture? Where is he right now?"

"With his grandma, in Florida." Eliot answered for him. "Tamara sent him away about a month ago."

"Aw, look at him!" the grifter exclaimed. "He is just an absolute darling. How could she manage to be so far away from that face for so long."

Nate scoffed. "Parents will do just about anything to make sure their kids are safe. Eliot, you said she's awake. How's she holding up?"

"She puked."

"Gross," Parker spoke up, "What color was it?"

"I-Parker, I didn't...I didn't check to see what color her throw up was. That's disgusting. The doctor said she couldn't eat anything until he checks up on her. She wasn't too happy to see that."

"Just get her some orange juice from a vending machine and she'll be fine long enough to sleep it off. It'll be tomorrow before she knows it. Anyway, glad she's ok." The rest of the sentance was rushed, "Let us know if anything changes, bye!" The line went dead.

"Nate? Na-," he growled, sounding something akin to a pitbull. By the time he managed to find a vending machine and get back to the room, Tamara was almost back asleep, though fighting it. "Hey, drink this. It'll fill you up enough to help you sleep." When she was busy drinking, he slyly turned her morphine drip on.

"Thanks, Eliot. I don't know how I can thank you enough for everything you've all done for me in the last couple weeks. I wish I could pay you. Too bad I'm out of a job, right?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. It'll be ok, I'll make sure of that. You just rest up for now."

"Ok. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, anything?"

Her weary smile suddenly warmed him to the bone. "Stay with me?"

"You got it, darlin'. I ain't goin' anywhere. Sleep." He pulled her thin blanket over her chest as she drifted off, before sitting down on the cot. Eliot sat there for a moment, deep in thought. Did her having a kid change anything? With that thought heavy on his mind, he layed down for some much needed shut-eye.

"Mommy!"

A few days later, brown, curly-headed little boy jumped up onto Tamara's bed.

"Hey, there, sweetie! Did you enjoy visiting your Nana?" She asked as she grabbed him up in a hug.

"Uh-huh," he gave an exagerated nod, "We went to didney wowrld*."

"You did? I bet that was fun. Hey, maybe next year, momma can go with you guys. Would that be fun?"

"Yeah!" Murphy giggled.

Tamara turned to her mother, "How was he, Mom?"

Mandy Smith's mouth turned up in a smile identical to her daughter's. "He was an absolute joy." Then she frowned. "How are you? You look like crap."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm doing better." There was a light knock on the door, before the team walked in, all bearing some small gift. Ever since her first two days in the hospital, she hadn't seen any of them, probably because of work, she figured. "Hey, guys! Mom, this is the group that saved me. Guys, this is my mom, Mandy."

Nate held out his hand, "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Smith. My name is Nathan Ford, I run Leverage Consulting. This is my team, uh, Sophie Deveroux, Alec Hardison, Eliot Spencer, and Parker...No-Last-Name."

After shaking his hand, Tamara's mother smiled at all of them. "Thank you. All of you. I didn't think we'd ever be rid of that bastard."

"Mom!" Tammy chastised, glancing at Murphy, who was playing with his train on her lap.

"Sorry, _monster_. I'm just glad that Tammy is safe, and not permanently damaged."

"I can handle myself, Mom"

"Oh, yes, you've done a great job of that. I told you, you should have called the police."

"And tell them what? A big-time CEO was watching my house and generally being a creep?"

" _Yes_! If you were scared enough to send Murphy away, then you were scared for your life."

"Mom, can we talk about this later?" she put her hand on her face, rubbing it briskly.

Looking around, as if just remembering they had visiters, she blushed, "Sorry. I was worried about her. Do you have children, Mr. Ford?"

"I had a son."

"Had?"

"He died a few years ago from cancer."

"I'm sorry. But, you'll know, that a parent is always worried about their children."

"Rightly so," Nate nodded. "And you had every right to be worried about Tamara, but we have handled the situation, and Randall _will_ be going to jail. For a very long time."

"Good," then Mandy turned to the rest. "I've heard a lot about all of you from Tammy, and I know what you have done for her. And for that, you have my gratitude. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get a cup of coffe. It's been a long flight, and I haven't had my caffeine yet. If any of you would like to join me, you are more than welcome."

Nate and Sophie took her up on her offer, leaving their boxes on the cot as they left. Hardison took it upon himself to break the ice with the child eyeing them all with curiosity. "Hey, little man. My name's Alec. What's your name?"

"I'm Murphy. You're dark like my Uncles. Are you a Injun?"

"Naw, buddy, I'm not an Indian. I'm African-American, or as we are more affectionatly called, black."

"But, you're not black...you're brown."

"That I am, little man. You are very smart, how old are you?"

"I'll be four in two whole more months." He held up four tiny fingers in Hardison's face.

"Only two more?"

"Yeah."

"Wow, you're gettin' big. Let me ask you somethin'," he touched his chin and got really close to the boy. "Do you like video games?"

Murphy laughed, "Yeah,"

"Yeah? Awesome, you gonna be a geek just like ya momma?" When Murphy nodded, Hardison held up his giant hand, "Age of the geek, little buddy. Gimme some, up top." High fives were exchanged, then Parker took a turn.

"Hi, I'm Parker."

"Hi, Miss Parker. You're pretty, like a dolly that my friend Lizzy plays with." The theif was taken aback.

"I don't know whether to be offended or take that as a complement."

"Mama, it's a complement." Hardison touched her shoulder. "With kids, there is nothing nicer than saying a girl looks like a doll."

"Riiiight. Well, then, thank you very much, Murphy. But, I don't like dollies. I do like rope though. Do you like to climb?"

"Yeah, Mommy lets me climb the little trees in our yard. She says I can't play in the big ones until I'm bigger, so I don't get hurt. She says I gotta be at least six year old before I get to be a big monkey."

"That's right." Tamara snuggled him closer to her, "Because, you don't have enough strength to climb the big trees yet, and if you did, you'd give Mommy grey hairs."

Parker scoffed, "What's the point of growing up if you don't get a few bumps and bruises."

"Parker?" Eliot shook his head, "Normal people don't repel off buildings for kicks and giggles. _Normal_ people start small. Like trees. How ya doin' there, bud. I'm Eliot. We're all friends of your mom's." Parker made a face behind Eliot's back, then pulled Hardison out the door.

"Were you the prince that took her to the fairy tale ball?"

"Murphy!" Tamara put her face in her hand. "I'm sorry. He asked me what I did while he was gone, I sent him a picture that Sophie took before we left the apartment."

"Nah, it's alright. That's right, buddy. I'm the one that took your mom to the ball."

"What did you do there?"

"Oh, not much, we talked to a lot of really nice people, danced a little bit."

"Like on Cinderella?"

"Oh, god." Tammy was utterly mortified by her son's motormouth.

Eliot chuckled, "Somethin' like that. But, after we danced, I had to go chase some bad men."

"Why?"

"Well, because they had taken your mom."

"Why?"

"Because, she knew a secret. Something they didn't want anyone else to know, and they wanted to make sure she didn't say anything."

"And then you safed her, right?" the child stared wide-eyed at the hitter's story.

"That's right, me and my team, we saved her. That way she could come back and take care of you."

"Yay! Tank you, for safing my mommy, Mr. Eliot."

"You're welcome, bud. But, I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"I need you to take care of her, too, ok? I need you to make sure she stays safe, make sure she eats all her food, so she can get better."

"And her vegetables?"

"Especially her vegetables. Tell me somethin'...do you have a phone in your house?"

"Uh-huh."

"Alright." He grabbed a notepad from the tray and carefully wrote down something. "This is my phone number, ok? I want you to keep this, just in case something happens, and you need me. You just push the buttons with the same numbers that are on this paper, and my phone will ring, you got that?"

"I know how to work a phone, Mr. Eliot. Mommy taught me just in case I have to call the police officers...or my Nana."

"That's great." He stood up. During the whole conversation, Tamara hadn't said a work, just watched as the normally aggressive hitter became a soft, sweet man. To any looking on the scene (i.e. Sophie and Hardison), they would have seen what appeared to be a husband and wife with their young child. The look on Tamara's face could only be named as adoration. Walking to the cot, Eliot picked up a small stuffed animal. He mooved his hair out of his face as he squatted down in front of the boy again, "This is for you. His name is Lambchop, and I want you to take very good care of him. Can you do that?"

Murphy smiled really big and nodded, hugging the lamb to himself. Eliot and Tammy's eyes met, and both smiled. "Thank you," she mouthed. Eliot nodded with a small wink. Tammy cleared her throat. "Well, I think I have been in this bed for far too long. How 'bout we go join everyone else in the cafeteria? Are you hungry?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Murhpy hopped down, with the help of Eliot, who also helped the mother off the bed. They let her change, then they headed out. She had been cleared to leave her room to walk or eat, as long as the nurses knew where she was. The hitter kept ahold of her arm, to support her healing body on the way down to breakfast. The rest of the group was already chatting happily, all with cups of coffee and plates of food. Murphy went to sit on his grandmother's lap while Eliot and Tamara got food. Once they sat down, they were added to the fold like one big, happy family.

 _ **To Be Continued...**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter Nine~ Secrets**_

"Mr. Spencer!" Eliot spun around at the sound of the doctor's voice. The older man was hurrying through the people meandering around the hall, trying to catch up with the hitter.

"Sup, Doc?" He stopped to wait for him.

"I have a question for you."

"Shoot," Eliot shrugged, eager to get to Tamara's room. It had been a week since he'd seen her, but she was supposed to be getting out today.

"Do you know if Ms. Smith has been in any kind of sexual relationship in the last few weeks?" While the doctor's gaze was steady, Eliot was shocked, stumbling over his words in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. "I'm only asking because you seem to know her the best."

"Why...why would I-I have no idea. Tammy doesn't know me _that_ well. I mean, as far as I know, she's been too preoccupied with this whole situation to even have a regular dating relationship. Why? What's goin' on?"

Sighing, Dr. Laures scratched his head. "I really shouldn't be telling you this, as you're not her family."

Now he was confused. "Doc, whatever it is, if it's got anything to do with the reason she's in here, then I probably need to know."

"Yeah..." Looking around, he took the hitter by the arm and guided him away from anyone who might here. "While she was being fixed up, one of the other surgeons noticed a particular pattern of bruising around her hips and thighs. When Ms. Smith got out of surgery, before she had a chance to clean up...one of the nurses did a rape kit on her, as is protocol in these situations."

"Wouldn't she have had to consent to something like that?"

"Well, normally, yes. But, since she was unconscious, her mother gave consent for it."

"Ok, so, why are you telling me this?"

The doctor looked down, rubbing his hands together. "There was evidence of sexual abuse. Bruising, trace amounts of semen, that sort of thing. Even a person in an... _unorthodox_ relationship wouldn't have the kind of these kinds of wounds. These would have had to been inflicted while someone was fighting against whoever was assaulting them...If someone was-"

Eliot didn't wait around to hear the rest. All he saw was red as he stomped in the direction of Tamara's room. There's no way. They would have _heard_ that over the comms. There was no way that Randall had had any time to do anything between leaving the gala and when they arrived at the apartments. People moved out of his way when they saw him coming, seeing the look on his face, no one wanted to get caught in his path. He swung open the door, startling the mostly healed woman who had been packing.

"Hey, Eliot." She huffed. "You scared me. What's up?" Quickly glancing around the room to make sure there was no one there (especially Murphy), he shut the door as fast as it would go, then spun around to face her. "Are you ok?" He didn't answer. Instead, he closed his eyes, counting to ten to keep his temper in check. "Eliot?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He growled.

Taken aback, she scoffed. "Tell you what?"

His eyes shot open and pinned her with a look she had never seen...at least not directed at her. "Don't play that with me. When did he do it? Huh? Was it in the car, on the way to the apartments? Is that why he had his guys take all those random turns? To give him more time to-"

"I don't kno-" She stopped when he started stalking towards her.

"Or was it earlier than that? Did he...Is that why you sent your son away, so he could do whatever he wanted to you without the kid walking in?" By now he had her backed against the bed, nowhere to run. When he suddenly slammed his fist down on the tray, she jumped and turned away from him. "How long has it been goin' on, Tammy?"

"What do you want me to say?!" Her voice trembled in fear of what he might do. "I didn't sleep with him. I sent Murphy away so that he wouldn't get hurt, but I _never_ reciprocated any of Joshua Randall's advances. You really want to know what happened?"

" _Please,_ " he bit out.

"I took my comm out when I realized what was going to happen. You were all already rearing to kill someone for him just taking me. If you had heard that, you probably would have actually killed him."

"The bastard deserved it."

"Maybe, but I didn't want that on you. You've already had too much blood on your hands, and I wasn't going to be the cause of anymore." It was his turn to be shocked. Realizing how she was turned away from him and curled in on herself, he backed up.

"How...how could you possibly know-"

"Because, I'm good at reading people. I had a close friend, might as well have been my brother, he went overseas and came back a different person. You have the same look in your eyes as he did."

"And because of that, instead of fighting, you thought it would be a good idea to just lay there and take it?!"

"Fuck no! I fought like hell. For all the good it did me. Randall had men holding me down...there wasn't much I could do."

"Then how did you manage to keep us from hearing it? Even if it wasn't in your ear, we could have heard you fighting."

Tearfully, she gave him a wry smile. "A clenched fist does wonders to block out sound on those things." Both of them were quiet, Tamara keeping her eyes averted. "I thought I could protect all of you from that. How did you find out."

Scoffing, he threw back his hair. "Doc was worried about you. He told me."

"I could sue him for that."

"Dammit, Tamara!" He shouted, which he instantly regretted it when he saw how she shied away at the sound. "You should have told us. You should have trusted us enough to know we would get _you_ out and put _him_ in jail no matter what. You should have trusted _me_."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"What the hell are _you_ sorry for? You ain't the one that hurt you, and you ain't the one that didn't get there in time."

"I'm just...sorry for getting you guys involved." Once again thoroughly pissed, Eliot grabbed her face and pulled it around to look at him. She yelped and stared at the button on his shirt instead.

"Tammy...look at me. _Look at me_." He waited for her to lift her eyes to his, and smiled. "There you go. Now, I want you to listen to me, and listen good because I wanna make sure it gets through that thick skull of yours. Don't you ever apologize for any of this. None of it was your fault. Do you understand me? You didn't ask for any of this in _any_ way. Randall was a sick, twisted guy, and now he's goin' to jail for it, probably for the rest of his life. Now, I know that it's gonna take some time for you to...not _get over_ all this. But, get to the point where you can get back to your life. And, I want you to know, that me, the team, all of us...we are gonna be here to help you through it, I _promise_ you that. You've got that little boy to look after, and we will make sure you have everything you need to take care of him and yourself. Ok?" His bright blue eyes kept her from moving away just as much as his rough, calloused hands did.

Tears continued to slide down her face as she nodded. "Ok," she whispered.

"Alright. C'mere, darlin'." Gently, Eliot pulled her against his chest, her head tucked up under his head. He didn't care that she was likely getting tears and snot all over his shirt, nor did he care that he knew it would be a long time before she trusted anyone fully again...especially him.

Weeks dragged on, all of them were called to court as material witnesses against Joshua Randall. It was a long and drawn out case, as there was just so much evidence that needed to be brought up. Tammy still wasn't fully healed, and it had been long decided that she should have one of the team stay at her house, just in case Randall had any friends on the outside. She was their star witness, her and her files and her medical report. She told them she would be fine, though it was actually the opposite. Once she had been weaned off the morphine, Tamara started having nightmares about what happened, which often ended up waking Murphy. One night, during a bad storm that shook the house and snapped tree branches against the windows, the three year old got out of bed and made his way to his mother's room. Standing outside the door, he could hear moaning.

"Mommy?" Easing the wood open, Murphy peeked inside. On the bed, Tammy lay thrashing, tangling herself up in the sheets. He climbed up onto the bed. "Mommy? Mommy, wake up." She didn't respond, only started crying in her sleep, her cries growing louder when thunder crashed. The little boy ran back to his room and dug the little scrap of paper from his pencil case. He knew what his mommy needed to make her feel better.

 _Riiiiiing...riiiiiing...riiiiiiing_...Eliot was pulled out of his sleep by the sound of his phone ringing on the nightstand. Squinting in the dark, he tried to read the screen, but didn't recognize the number. "Hello?" He asked gruffly.

"Mr. Eliot?"

He sat up. "Murphy? Hey, buddy, what's wrong? Is your mommy ok?"

"She's crying."

"Aw, buddy, I'm sorry. But, y'know, there's not much I can do to-"

"No, she's asleep." This gave him pause. "Mommy won't wake up, and she's crying really bad. Here, listen." The boy's breath disappeared, and in the background, he heard the mewling cries of night terrors. "See? I can't make her stop."

"Alright, buddy, I'm on my way. I want you to go back to your room and wait for me to get there, ok. Don't try to wake her up anymore." He was already out of bed and pulling on his jeans.

"Ok, Mr. Eliot. Buh-bye."

"Bye, bud." _Shit_ , he thought. Yanking his shirt and boots on, he stopped only to grab his jacket and keys, before running out of the apartment.

Less than 15 minutes later, Murphy poked his head out of his bedroom, making sure it was the door he heard pounding on and not the storm making scary noises. He crept through the hallway, passed his mother's room, and into the living room where he flicked on the light. The knock came again, louder this time.

"Murphy?! Buddy, I need you to open the door!" The little boy hurried to get his stool from the bathroom, placing it next to the door and stepping up to unlock the handle and deadbolt. He stepped back as it swung open, revealing a very wet Eliot on the porch. "Where's your mom?" Saying nothing, Murphy took his hand and led him to the master bedroom. The light flicked on and he saw that she was _still_ in the throes of the nightmare. Eliot stepped forward and sat next to her on the bed. "Tamara? C'mon, darlin', I need you to wake up now." The hitter put a hand on her face, the other taking hold of her hand when it tried to punch him. "Wake up, Tammy." When she swung at him again, he took both of her slim wrists in his large hand, pinning them against his chest. "It's ok. He can't hurt you anymore, sweetheart, he's not here. You're safe. It's alright." Tammy thrashed one more time before yelling as she woke up. Her eyes darted around frantically, searching for the ghosts that haunted her. Even in waking, she struggled against Eliot's strong hold. "Shh, shh. It's ok. Just calm down, darlin'. No one's gonna hurt you. It's just me." He petted her hair as she managed to calm herself.

Finally, she fell back against her pillows. "I was back at the building." A small sob escaped her throat. Choking it back, she fixed her gaze on him. "How the hell did you get in my room? Why are you even here?"

Eliot chuckled. "Someone was a little concerned when they couldn't wake you up." He looked behind him, and she followed his gaze to the child that stood at the doorway in his Thomas the Train p.j.s, holding a stuffed elephant.

"Oh, baby. Come here." She wiped her cheeks of any tears and opened her arms, to which he ran and hopped up with the help of the man sitting there already. "Momma's sorry she scared you, sweet boy."

"It's ok, Mommy. I had a nightmare. Were you having a nightmare?"

Tamara gave him a small smile to calm him. "Yeah, just a nightmare. You didn't have to call Eliot."

"But you were yelling?"

Her eyes widened. "Was I?" Both guys nodded. "Well, I'll have to make sure the boogy man can't get back in my dreams, huh? Come on, let's get you back to bed, sweetie."

Eliot stood so she could get out from under the covers, only to realize that she was only wearing a tank top and short-shorts. Suddenly the pictures that Randall had sent her popped up in his mind's eye, coming to the forefront was the one that he had taken of her while she was masterbating. He allowed the mother and son to leave the room before mentally punching himself to make the images go away...not that it did any good. From down the hall, he could hear Tamara tucking Murphy in and saying goodnight. He tried to make his way to the door before she came back out.

"I'm sorry you had to come all the way out here." She said from the hallway. Eliot stopped his progress to turn around. Tammy stood there, arms crossed over her chest in a vain attempt to hide the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Oh, it was no problem." He shoved one hand into his pocket, the other waving off her apology.

"He shouldn't have called you for something like that."

"No, it's fine. How long you been havin' those nightmares?"

She shrugged, which only succeeded to pull his attention to her breasts as the were pushed against her chest. "Ever since I stopped taking pain meds, I guess." When she finally looked at him, she seemed to realize he was wet. "Hey, let me get you a towel."

"It's alright, I was just about to leave, let you get back to sleep."

"I'm not going back to sleep anytime soon," Tammy said, a sad smile on her face. "Come on, take your jacket off. I'll get you a towel, and get you a cup of hot chocolate for your trouble."

Hesitating as to whether it was really a good idea for him to stay, he looked between the door and the woman that stood with her head tilted at him. After a moment of indecision, he returned her smile. "Hot chocolate sounds pretty great right now, thanks."

"Ok," Tammy breathed. "Just, uh, give me a second while I change into something a bit more...appropriate for company. Make yourself comfortable."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter Ten~ Late Nights**_

Working his jacket and slightly muddy boots off, Eliot tried to figure out where to sit down. For a woman who lived alone with a small child and didn't do very much entertaining, she had a lot of furniture. There were two couches with two armchairs and a rocking chair strategically placed around the living room, all facing the TV screen over the fireplace. Considering that he didn't want to get her furniture wet, he decided to just wait until she came back. When she did, towel in hand, Tammy had only put a large t-shirt over her tank top. This did nothing to squander the thoughts that were floating around in his brain, and he felt horrible for it. So much shit had happened to this poor woman and he couldn't even stop himself from imagining what it would be like to see what was hiding under the material.

Tamara had gestured to the couch beside him, her silent way of telling him to sit down. To be completely honest, the way he was hovering made her nervous. She handed him the towel, being extra careful not to touch his hand when she did. Despite the front she had put up (one that no one seemed to realize was there), she still shied away from any man besides her son. Not that she had had much physical contact with men since the incident in the hospital. Tammy had made it a prerogative not to be around many people during the time of the trial. As such, she had begun to sink down into that deep dark hole that was depression, considering that she had always been a very outgoing, social person. Vaguely, as she stirred the hot milk and cocoa mix into mugs, she wondered why it was Eliot that her son thought to call, instead of just cuddling up to her like he normally did on the nights where he wanted to sleep in her bed. Thunder boomed, lightning lit up the window over the sink, making her jump. That might be why...

"You alright?" Eliot's voice made her jerk, causing one of mugs to slosh the liquid all over her hand.

"Ow, _shit_." Tammy grabbed a paper towel to clean up the chocolate on the floor, balling up her burnt fist. _Dammit, get a hold of yourself. Freakin' scaredy cat._ Sock-clad feet came into her line of sight, and the sound of another paper towel being ripped off preceded the hand that covered hers when Eliot knelt beside her.

"Sorry. I got this." Without a word, or even without looking at him, she pulled her hand out from under his, standing to clean off the counter as well. "Trashcan?" He asked. She simply pointed next at the end of the counter, where the can sat tucked away. When all the mess was cleaned up and the mug refilled, they went to sit in the living room. Him on the couch, and she in the armchair, far enough away that he couldn't touch her without having to get up. Tammy had snatched up the remote and clicked it, bringing up some children's cartoon. Probably a channel that Murphy had been watching before bed. Flipping through the channels, she eventually settled on some mindless reality show, and turned the volume down so they wouldn't wake the child up again.

Both of them sat in silence. The woman sat with her legs drawn up, eyes glued to the TV, if for no other reason than to avoid her guest's gaze. And gaze he did. Eliot noticed everything, they way she had pulled away, how she barely spoke to him, and even now, how she gently rocked back and forth on her perch. The woman before him was broken, it was written in every inch of her face and in every movement that she made. Even the way she tapped her fingers on the cup she held told him a story.

"Hey," he spoke up, attempting to get her attention.

"Hmm?" Tamara didn't even look at him, just barely moved her head in his direction.

"What happened? Murphy's never called me before?"

"I know, I'm sorry. He shouldn't have woken you up."

"I only need about ninety minutes of sleep a day, so he didn't really wake me up. Tamara?" This time she did look at him, if only for a moment before averting her eyes again. "Are you ok?"

She seemed to start rocking faster, her fingers splayed over the cup she held. "I guess you might not remember this...the night of the gala-"

"I remember it."

"It was raining...I remember the rain hitting the window of the car, the roof of the apartment building when he..." She trailed off, gulping. "There was a flash of lightning the first time he punched me. Cliché, right?" Tammy gave a wry laugh. "But that's what I remember. It hasn't rained at night since then...at least, not that I remember."

"So...it was worse tonight because of the storm?"

One of her shoulders raised in a shrug, "I guess. I didn't mean to scare you guys. And I certainly didn't want to bother you in the middle of the night."

"Hey, I told you. Whatever you need, me and the team are gonna be there to make sure you're taken care of. I told Murphy to call me if something happened, and that's what he did. He's a smart kid, he knew that whatever was happening to you, he couldn't handle." Tammy put a hand over her eyes.

"Oh, god, Eliot. What if I had hurt him? What if he had tried to climb in bed and I accidentally hit him, or-or grabbed him, or turned over on him..." Her hand came down her mouth to stifle a sob.

Eliot put his mug down, standing from his seat. "Hey, hey. It's ok." He didn't miss the way she sat back when he knelt in front of her chair. "Your little boy is fine. He's a smart kid, and he did the right thing, calling me to help y'all. Don't do that to yourself. You didn't hurt him, he's safe, asleep, dreaming of candy and teddy bears, or whatever kind of weird shit kids dream about." His last comment pulled a small giggle out of her, which she tried to hide. "Ah, there it is. See? You're gonna be alright. You're one of the strongest women I've ever met, and you _will_ get through this giant pile of crap. I'm not gonna tell you to do it for your son, because that's not why you need to do it. You need to make sure you're ok for yourself. Because if you just do it for your boy, then you're not really ok." Ignoring the tension in her arms, he took both her hands in his. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I don't care if I'm halfway across the planet, ok. If you need me for any reason, you pick up that phone and you call me. Same with any of the team. If you just need someone to come over and sit, not even talk, just sit and not be alone, you call one of us. Even Parker, she's been asking about you."

"I can't ask you to put your lives and jobs on hold just to check up on me."

"And you're not. _We_ are offering to put what we do on the back burner if you need us to. Let me tell you something, I think you are the first client to ever end up being friends with every single one of the team. Most people don't have any contact with us after we fix their problems."

"So, why are you bothering with me?"

"Because, Tamara, you are important to all of us." His 100 watt smile stretched all the way to his eyes, bringing out the flecks of gold that spotted them here and there. "Now, hold still." Letting go with one of his hands, he snagged a tissue from the end table beside them, raising it to her face and gently scrubbing her cheeks free of the tears that had fallen. Not used to being treated like a child, Tammy started laughing, trying to push his hand away. "There, that's better."

Sitting there, in that moment, Tammy felt the wall she had built start to chip away. It would seem that Eliot had, metaphorically, taken a sledge hammer to her wall. He continued to sit there, holding her hand, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. It was oddly soothing, between the catch of Eliot's rough skin on hers, and the way he had caught her in his gaze, keep her from looking away. Having long ago given up on conventional religion, Tamara was suddenly hit with the feeling that whatever higher power there was had sent her the equivalent of an angel. Yeah, that sounded right. Her strong, sweet, yet kind of scary guardian angel, who had saved her that day, then again after that. And now, here he was, after midnight in the middle of a rainstorm. All because her son had scared him into thinking she was in danger.

Likewise, Eliot could physically feel her body relax under his ministrations. All the hell she had been through, Tamara deserved an award for how well she had hidden it in the courts so far. Hardison had made sure to bug the courtroom where Randall's crimes would, one by one, come to light. Through the cameras they had planted, they watched the woman sit stone faced and silent throughout the proceedings, never looking at the man who had hurt her, looking almost as if she wasn't even in the room mentally. He knew what fear could do to a person. Especially someone as sweet and soft as the woman that held onto his hand like a lifeline. What he didn't know, was that to her, he was her lifeline. Right now, he was the only thing keeping her from unraveling and slipping even farther into her pit of despair.

In the heat of the moment, Tamara raised his hand to her lips and pressed them against his tanned knuckles. Eyes closed, a single tear tracked its way down to her chin, where it ran into the side of his hand and ran down his wrist. Neither said a word as she expressed her thanks without words. Despite the thoughts that had been running through his brain earlier, Eliot knew that this was not a romantic gesture, but one of a woman who was grateful just to be alive. When her eyes finally opened, he was surprised that the color he was so used to seeing by this time, that blend of warm honey and birch leaves, was gone. In it's place was the startling shade of dark green surrounding her large, dilated pupils. Of course, simple biology caused his own body to react as well. Almost immediately after opening her eyes, Tammy watched, intrigued at the sight of his clear blue and gold eyes darken into a stormy amber-flecked grey. She could feel his grip almost impersepherably tighten on her fingers, felt her heart skip a beat at the change in his whole demeanor. He moved ever so slightly closer. She wanted to move away, but for some reason, she was rooted in her seat, held by no more than the look in Eliot's eyes. It scared her.

Because it was the same look she saw in Joshua Randall's eyes when he had-

Her limbs finally got their mobility back. Tamara snatched her hands away and vaulted herself over the arm of her chair. Hitting the floor in a pile of tangled appendages, she scrambled into the corner of the room as fast as she could, leaving a very confused Eliot on his ass from where she had pushed him back. Shaking off the fog that had descended on his brain, he watched as Tammy curled in on herself and started rocking back and forth again. He could hear her muttering, indecipherable until he got closer, which just made her whimper and make herself smaller.

"No, no, no, no. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Please, I'm sorry." Her voice was so quiet, he knew she wasn't talking to him.

"Tammy? Sweetheart, you're alright. He can't get you anymore. I'm right here." At the sound of his voice, her rocking eased a bit. _Good,_ he thought, _She's still responding._ "How 'bout we get you to bed, darlin'?" He eased closer, crouched and with his hands out so she wouldn't think he was trying to hurt her. Her eyes darted to him at the movement, stopping him. "Can I touch you?" He didn't mean it in a romantic way, and luckily, she knew that, because she nodded jerkily. Slowly, he managed to put his arms around her, pulling her into the safest embrace she had felt since she was a child. "Shh, shh. It's ok." She could feel him press his lips into her hair, an attempt to show her that he was still there for her. "Let's get you into bed. You still have court tomorrow."

It didn't take long for him to get the mentally and physically exhausted woman to sleep. He just sat beside her and held her hand until she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Once she was out, he pulled on his boots long enough to grab his go-bag from his truck and come back inside. Eliot made use of the hall bathroom, changing into his pajama pants and a tank top, before rooting through the closet to get an extra pillow and blanket. Knowing full well that she might have another nightmare, he had decided to suck it up and hang out on the couch, having left her door open just a crack so he could hear her if something happened. She was in no shape to be alone, especially not with a small child.

Poor girl.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter Eleven~ The Sentence**_

Randall vs. The People was the biggest case the state had seen in years. And as such, the start time for the final court session was as early as they could schedule it...8 a.m. That meant that Tamara was being woken up by her phone at six, and laid there listening to the cheery alarm for a few moments. Did she really have to go today? She had no desire to have to face the man who had ruined her. But, at the same time, Tammy knew that if she didn't go, Randall might actually get away with everything he did. She couldn't let that happen. If he went free, there's no telling how many more women he would hurt before he was caught again. Sitting up, Tammy was momentarily confused as to why she was getting tangled up in a baggy t-shirt when she had gone to bed in a tank top. Then, she was hit with the memories of what had happened the night before. The nightmare, Eliot pulling her out of it, their conversation...then that moment, the one that had launched her into a fit of survival mode. Tamara put her hands in her face, groaning from the embarrassment that coursed its way through her. Thinking back to that half second that had sent her over the edge, she knew she had been wrong. She was still so scared from the thought of having to deal with Randall again. The look she had seen in Eliot's eyes was nothing like the one Randall had given her.

Before Joshua had tied her up, he had told both the men who rode with them to hold her down. Knowing that they would search her, she slipped her earbud out and closed her fist around it. Sure enough, having decided that someone was trying to pull one over on him, he yanked her hair back and shown a flashlight in both her ears. Somehow, she got away with it, only to be forced onto the same table that Eliot later used to relocate her shoulder. Tamara had squirmed and fought as he ran his hands up her thighs, ripping her dress so that he could fit. She kicked at him, her legs were pinned down so he could work her panties down. Oh, how she had screamed, how she cried when she realized that the others wouldn't get there in time to stop this. Randall's face had darkened in his lust, punching her to shut her up. When he undid his pants, she knew it was over for her. He was not gentle, his hands grabbed and pinched and bruised. So unlike Eliot, who, even when he was ready to kill someone, he constantly held her as if she were a porcelain doll, ready to break at the slightest pressure. That was what she thought of when as Randall pumped himself to completion.

A knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts. Swiping at her face, she called for the person to come in. Eliot stood there, already in his suit, hair tied back at the base of his neck.

"Hey, you alright? I thought I heard crying." He slipped through the door.

Tamara cleared her throat. "Yeah, fine. I was just...ahem, I'm fine. Thanks."

Clearly, he didn't believe her, but he let it slide. "Ok. We've only got a little while until we gotta go, so you need to get ready. What are you gonna do with the kid?"

"Mom's coming over to watch him, so he'll be fine if we just let him sleep."

"Alright. Well, go ahead and get ready, I've got some food in the kitchen when you get done, coffee's in the pot."

"Right, thanks."

Eliot stared at her for a moment, watching the way she played with her blanket in her lap, not looking at him. He saw the redness around her eyes, the tracks that she had missed on her cheeks. She had been crying again...not that he really blamed her. Knowing she was waiting for him to leave, he did, closing the door behind him. Once back in the kitchen, he picked up his cup and leaned against the counter. Her kitchen seemed to have a permanent smell of a bakery, as if she was constantly baking. In all honesty, he wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. Just from what he knew of her, he could definitely see her dancing around the kitchen to whatever music it was she liked, covered in flour. She would be the kind of mom that would let her little boy lick the bowl when she was done with the batter. It was homey, well lived in. Actually, it almost reminded him of how his house was growing up, his momma always in the kitchen. All these thoughts came to a stop when Murphy stumbled into the kitchen, one hand rubbing his eyes, the other dragging his stuffed elephant along by its trunk behind him.

"Hey, mornin', bud. You get a good sleep in?"

The little boy blinked at him sleepily, not quite all the way awake. "Mmh-hmm. Can I have some cereal?"

"Sure thing. Where's your mom keep it?" Murphy pointed vaguely in the direction of the fridge. Eliot made a face at the child before hunting through the cabinets. Sure enough, he found some. Cheerios. Of course, she would choose the least sugary of kids breakfast cereals. It took him a moment, but he eventually managed to gather up a bowl, spoon, and milk to go with the cheerios. Right as he set the bowl down, Tammy came hurrying out of her room, fumbling with the buttons at the wrists of her puffy sleeves. Instead of a suit, she had instead opted for a loose, knee length skirt and a floral blouse that hung from her frame. She had become so thin in the last month and a half, so different from the curvy, filled-out woman that he had saved from being killed.

"Good morning, baby." Tammy ducked to kiss Murphy on the hair. "Mommy's got court today again, so your nana's coming to watch you, ok? Are you gonna be good for Nana?"

"Yes, ma'am." A little more awake now that he had food, he nodded.

Eliot chimed in. "You sure got good manners for such a little squirt."

Murphy laughed. "Mommy and Nana said you should always say 'yes ma'am', and 'no sir', because it's polite."

"That's right, sweetie. Now, you said something about breakfast?"

Tamara and Eliot arrived as everyone was filing into the courtroom. Because of his role as Tammy's protector, he was given permission to sit with her near the front of the room, in case something happened to make her have a meltdown. They had already sat down, Tamara's file tucked safely in her lap where Randall wouldn't see it, when the man in question was escorted into the room by armed guards. He was so smug, so sure that he'd still get away despite the massive amount of evidence against him. That was...until the jury filed in. Once he started looking at the faces of the people that would decide his fate, he got slightly confused. His lawyer on the other hand looked absolutely mortified. The judge made his way to his seat, the gavel banged. Court was now in session.

They were nearing the end of the time allotted for one session. "Your Honor, we only have one more witness to call for the prosecution." The lawyer that the team had hired was doing an excellent job to bury Joshua Randall's reputation. Even if he ever managed to get out of this, no one would ever hire him again.

"Proceed, let's get this over with."

"Yes, sir. Prosecution would like to call Tamara Smith to the stand."

Knowing it would come to this, Tamara had thought that she was prepared. But, as she stood, seeing that man turn to look at her with a smirk on his face, she faltered a step. Eliot quickly stood to keep her from running, and led her to the stand. The bailiff stopped him at the fence, asking who he was.

"Sir, I'm just a friend of Ms. Smith's. She asked me to be here so she wouldn't have to look at _him_." Nodding his head in the direction of Randall, Eliot gave the bailiff a look. "She's been through enough, and it's about to get worse. I'm just here as moral support." The officer nodded, moving out of the way for them. Tammy was sworn in, and sat down, her face void of any expression.

"Ms. Smith, what exactly was your position at Maybary Union Company?"

"Um," she cleared her throat. "I was a psychological profiler and foreign liaison."

"Can you please clarify for the court, what is it that you did there?"

"I used numbers and simple psychology to make an estimate of how well future products and services would do in different demographic groups. I also used my skill with languages and psychology to meet with overseas companies and pitch them deals to extend the company."

"Right...and why do _you_ think that Mr. Randall wanted to kill you?"

"Well, I found some discrepancies in the overseas accounts while doing a monthly report about the finances of Maybary. I brought this to Mr. R..." pausing, she seemed to choke on the man's name. "Mr. _Randall_ , " she bit out, "told me that it was of no consequence. He said I should forget about them."

"But, you didn't?"

"No, sir. I continued to investigate. They were very large discrepancies, and I knew that anything like that couldn't lead back to anything good."

"And this had nothing to do with the emails the defendant had been sending you?" There were murmurs throughout the courtroom. "The ones that _you_ yourself entered in as evidence." Surprised, Tammy cut her eyes to Eliot, who just shook his head and faced forward.

"I...I was not thinking about those emails, no, sir. I was doing what I thought was right for the company, with no thought to myself."

"Mmh-hmm. Your Honor, I would like to show these reports that Ms. Smith found, along with the pictures taken, _by_ the defendant, or by someone who worked for him, that were sent to her."

"Go ahead." He was so bored, despite the seriousness of this case, and it worried Tammy.

"Ms. Smith, can you verify that this is the report that you entered to the defendant?"

Squinting at the screen, she nodded, "Yes, that's my signature at the bottom, and those are the same numbers that I ran."

"Next picture." The screen changed, and everyone gasped, even Tammy had to look away. "Can you, without a shadow of a doubt, say that the woman in this picture is you, Ms. Smith." Forcing herself to raise her eyes, Tammy examined the picture taken through her window right after she had gotten out of the shower, standing naked in front of a mirror while she brushed her hair.

"Yes, that is me. That is me, my room, and the outside of my home."

"So, would it be your opinion that Mr. Randall sent someone to take pictures of you, in your house, mostly in the nude, which he then took for his own purposes, one of which was to send them to you for whatever reason?"

"Yes, it is."

"Why do you think he did that?"

"Because, Joshua Randall is a sick, twisted man, who gets off on scaring and hurting people."

"Do you think it was because he had some sort of...physical attraction to you?"

"I object, Your Honor." The defense attorney jumped up.

"What for?" The judge drawled.

"Leading the witness."

"Overruled, now shut up and sit down."

"To answer your question, sir, yes. Yes, I do think he had an attraction to me, but I did not return his affections. In fact, it was more along the lines of an obsession than simple attraction."

"Right." The lawyer flipped through his file. "Now, can you elaborate on the events leading up to the night of Mr. Randall's party?"

 _Shit, here we go._ "Um, I was working late, trying to gather more evidence against Mr. Randall. I had just left the office, when I heard someone searching the cubicles for something. When I approached them and asked what they were looking for, the yelled, 'It's her!' And then started chasing me. I was scared, so I didn't stop to ask them why they wanted me, and I ran. I made it to the stairs, only to be stopped on the tenth floor by another one of the men. He managed to get ahold of me and, all the sudden, I felt this...pain in my side, he had stabbed me. But I hit him, he fell against the wall. I guess it knocked him out, but I was already running again. I got to the basement, and they started shooting at me. I was hiding behind a dumpster, sure I was about to die. Then, this gentleman," she put her hand on Eliot's shoulder, still not looking at Randall, "came out of nowhere and got me out of there. We were running across the lawn when I got shot in the leg."

"I see. And who is this man?"

"He is a member of the Leverage Consulting team. They help people who can't go to the cops."

"Hmm. What happened after that?"

"We...we hid out for about two weeks, so I could heal. The Leverage team asked for my help in the job they were doing, which was investigating Maybary and Joshua Randall."

"And on the night of the gala?"

"I went to the gala, to help them. My part in it was to show Randall that he hadn't killed me, which was supposed to set him off kilter. But..."

"But?"

"Seeing me still alive seemed to make cause a different emotion than what we were going for. He seemed happy instead of upset."

"And then you were abducted?" Tammy murmured her answer. "Speak up, please, Ms. Smith."

"Ahem, yes. I was taken out of the ballroom and down to the parking garage by two of his bodyguards. From there I was taken to an abandoned apartment complex where he...he..."

"Go on?"

It took a moment, but she was able to take a breath and gather herself. "That was where he raped and beat me within an inch of my life. _Him_ personally." Eliot offered her a hand, which she took, squeezing in until her knuckles turned white.

"Your Honor, the prosecution rests."

"Does the defense have any question?"

"Yes, Your Honor." The defense attorney standing caught her eye, accidentally drawing her attention to the man he stood beside. His cold eyes lit up as he smiled at her. Tammy shuddered, something Eliot did not miss. "Ms. Smith, how long have you worked for Maybary Union Consulting?"

"Three years."

"And in your three years there, have you ever seen or heard anything that would lead you to believe that my client has done anything like what you are suggesting."

"No, but-"

"And, why, if I may, was there no hospital record of your alleged attack?"

"I didn't go to a hospital."

"Why not?"

"Because...because the Leverage Consulting team knew that if I went to a hospital, he would just track me down and kill me then!" Eliot could feel her starting to shake.

"But, if you were so worried about it, then why didn't you get ahold of the police?"

"Because that _bastard_ has the goddamn police in his pocket! Joshua Randall has been at the center of dozens of political scandals, money embezzling and rape cases, and he gets away with it every time!"

"Please, calm down, Ms. Smith-"

"Don't tell me to calm down! You're accusing me of lying about being _hunted_ and _raped!_ I wouldn't lie about something like this, in fact, I wouldn't lie about anything. You can ask anyone who knows me! I want him in jail, because he _hurt_ me, and he has been hurting people for way too long!" The audience began to clap. Everyone in there was someone that Randall had hurt in some way. Employees who had been fired with no warning, product users who had had some sort of complication because of it, even a few of the women that Randall had hurt in similar ways to Tammy. "Do you want to see why I think he deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his life? Here, I'll show you."

Standing up, she unbuttoned the sleeves of her shirt, pulling it over her head, revealing the cami top underneath. Rolling up the edge of her cami, her stomach was bare for them all to see. Stitches that were still healing, bruises that had faded out to yellow, scars that were puffy and pink, that would never go away for the rest of her life. " _This_ is the handiwork of Joshua Randall. He split my skin in various places, that's how hard he hit me. My shoulder was dislocated, I had ribs broken, punctured organs, and was _violated,_ all so you can sit here and claim that _that man_ ," she pointed to Randall, "did nothing? No, sir. I don't think so. Play the clip!" Hardison, who was posing as a courtroom tech, pulled up the video of her being tied up, then the sound of fists meeting flesh, and groans of pain filled the room. "This was _after_ Mr. Randall raped me. He could have just killed me, and this would have never happened. But, this sick son of a bitch just _had_ to play with his food." Pictures rolled over the screen, of her at the scene, being loaded onto the gurney, during her surgery, and after, when she was in physical therapy, trying to get full mobility back into her shoulder and ankle.

The yells of the audience grew, louder and louder, until the judge pounded his gavel. "Order! Order in the court! Ms. Smith, please, put your clothes back on. The jury will now take some time to deliberate. Everyone, take thirty minutes, return for sentencing." He pounded the gavel one more time, and everyone filed out for the allotted 30 minutes.

As Tamara passed her tormentor of over a year and a half, she looked him in the eye, and whispered, "You should have killed me when you had the chance." They had a glare-off, until Eliot took hold of her upper arm and pulled her away. To keep prosecution and defense from meeting, they were led to separate rooms to wait out the intermission. The door closed, and Tammy fell to her knees, sobs wracking her body.

"Hey, hey, hey. C'mere." Eliot's arms wrapped around her in a protective cocoon. He rocked her back and forth, stroking her hair to calm her. When her hiccupping finally abated, he sat back. Tamara's face was a mess, mascara running, eyes puffy and red, and a vain attempt of hiding the snot that had managed to work its way down her lip. She wasn't a pretty crier, but that was alright. Eliot reached behind her and snagged the tissues from the table. "That was stupid, what you did. Brave, but stupid."

Tammy laughed through the tissue she held to her nose. "Which part?"

A small smile graced Eliot's face at the first real laugh he had heard out of the woman in far too long. "Both. You basically just put a target on your back with that taunt you used on Randall. You might have well just told him to send his best guys after you."

"Well," she finished wiping her face, "I guess you're just gonna have to stick around to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Yeah, I guess I'll have to, huh. Keep you from doing anymore stupid shit, right?"

"Right." At that moment, the others decided to join them.

"Alright, we have got this in the bag. There is no way in hell Randall is getting out of this one." Nate was rubbing his hands together. Then he spotted the two of them. "Why are you on the floor?"

Tammy laughed. "I had a minor breakdown. I'm fine."

"Good. Great. By the way, that stunt you pulled with the whole, showing everyone your injuries thing, that was smart. Anyone in their right minds would send him to jail for all that."

"Unless he's got the jury in his pocket." Tammy was hit with a sudden sense of dread. "If so, it's all over."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that too much." Sophie gave a knowing smile, then turned back to the door. "Well, come on, it's almost time to go back in."

Confused, Tamara let Eliot help her up and finish wiping her face to get the tear tracks she had missed. "Eliot?"

"Hmm?"

"What did they mean by that?"

"Well, see, Randall did have the jury in his pocket." Her heart sank at that. "Hey, _did_. Hardison hacked the database so we would have a whole new set of people on the jury. There's no way he will get away with all the things he's done. Come one." Running his hand down her arm, he took hold of her hand and gently guided her back into the courtroom. Once everyone was settled, court was called to order once again.

"Jury, have you come to a decision?"

The foreman stood up with a folder in her hand. "We have, Your Honor. In the case of Randall vs. The People, for the charges of embezzlement, racketeering, gross negligence, kidnapping, rape, conspiracy to commit murder, and attempted murder, we the jury find Joshua Randall...guilty. On all counts."

All around Tamara cries of victory rang out, but she was frozen in place. She had really done it. She had taken down the son of a bitch. Breaking out in to a grin, she felt herself being hugged by so many people. She was finally free. No one would be coming after he, or her son, ever again. And even if they did, she knew they'd have to go through the Leverage team first. Especially the semi-overprotective hitter that was now spinning her in a circle.

She was free.


End file.
